At the End of His Rope
by Lindelea1
Summary: During the seventh year of Thain Peregrin I, an overturned coach and an unexpected arrival complicate a pleasant family outing. In the aftermath, the Thain fights to retain his office, and famine threatens the Shire.
1. The Problem

**1. The Problem**  
  
'Why does this sort of thing always seem to happen to _me_?' Pippin asked querulously.  
  
'What sort of thing?' Diamond asked gently, stroking his hair back from his forehead.  
  
_You know perfectly well,_ his look told her.  
  
She laughed, 'I have no idea what you're talking about!'  
  
'You know!' he insisted. 'Falling trolls, flash floods, ice storms, stable fires, runaway ponies...'  
  
'O those runaway ponies,' Diamond answered. 'You've had trouble with them more than once.' She kissed his forehead. 'Let's banish all ponies from Tookland.'  
  
'I'll get right on't,' Pippin promised. He went back to his grumbling. 'I have to be the unluckiest hobbit in the Shire...'  
  
'O no, not the unluckiest,' Diamond murmured. 'You married me, after all; didn't you tell me then that you were the luckiest hobbit in the Shire?'  
  
'O, you're right,' Pippin conceded. 'What, then?'  
  
'Careless?' Diamond suggested.  
  
'I'm _never_ careless,' Pippin said, stung.  
  
She chuckled. 'You're right. Impulsive, but never careless.' She caressed his forehead as a grimace crossed his face. 'Mmmmmm, perhaps we should just say "accident prone".'  
  
'O aye,' he said, mollified. He gave a sigh. 'I tell you...'  
  
'What?' Diamond asked.  
  
'If Frodo were writing this in a book, I'd tell him to put in lots and lots of boring pages filled with routine happenings.'  
  
Diamond's laugh rippled over him. 'We _have_ had lots and lots of boring pages filled with routine happenings,' she said. 'You just tend to skip over them without noticing, is all.' She kept her tone light, hiding her worry from ten-year-old Faramir.  
  
Just then Ferdibrand came up from his inspection of the overturned coach. 'All right,' he said. 'I'm going to try to pull you out from under. Still wish we had some rope, though.'  
  
'I think we left it back at the Ford, when we helped that stalled wagon,' Pippin said. 'I should have made sure it got put back into the coach. You know what the Mayor always says.'  
  
' "I always like to keep a bit of rope handy," ' Ferdibrand, Diamond, and Faramir recited along with him.  
  
'Well, it certainly would be handy right about now,' Ferdibrand said. 'All right, then, Faramir, you take hold on that side, I'll take hold on this, push down as hard as you can on your branch. It'll act as a lever and hopefully lift the coach just a little bit. And you, Mistress, try to pull him out from under when I say "three". Are we ready?'  
  
'Right,' Pippin answered. Ferdibrand gave the count, and the four strained at their appointed tasks. Pippin gave a yelp as the coach settled further.  
  
Ferdibrand rose, shaking his head. 'It's too dangerous without a rope, cousin,' he said. 'If we move it the wrong way it'll crush you. Right now something's holding it up, I can't see what.'  
  
'So what are our options?' Diamond said, settling back, one hand on her belly. The contractions hadn't stopped. At least they were irregular, probably just false pangs. She fervently hoped they were.  
  
Ferdibrand gave her a sharp look. 'Are ye all right, Mistress?' he said.  
  
'Never been better,' she said lightly, shooting him a quelling look. Her husband had enough to worry about at the moment. 'So what are our options?' She took off her cloak, rolling it up and tucking it beneath Pippin's head.  
  
'Either we wait for someone to notice our ponies running merrily down the road...'  
  
'Merrily?' Pippin asked. 'Panic-stricken, more like.'  
  
'...panic-stricken down the road, or I walk to the nearest dwelling to get help.' He looked at Diamond. 'I don't like to leave you here alone, Mistress.'  
  
'Alone? With two fine hobbits to watch over me?' She smiled at her husband and son.  
  
'Too bad the coach had to overturn in such a deserted stretch of road,' Pippin said.  
  
'Yes,' Diamond agreed. 'On second thought...'  
  
'What?' he asked.  
  
She kissed him again on the forehead. 'Perhaps you _are_ the unluckiest hobbit in the Shire. Aside from being married to me, that is.'


	2. Special Delivery

Chapter 2. Special Delivery  
  
'Faramir, see if you can find some blankets amongst the baggage. There's a chill in the air,' Diamond said.  
  
'You ought to have your cloak back,' Pippin said, concerned for her, but she laughed.  
  
'Carrying a babe everywhere I go is like having a hearth deep inside,' she said. 'I'm never cold these days.' She looked at him. 'I'm worried about you, lying on that damp ground. The last thing we need is another visit from the Old Gaffer's Friend.*'  
  
'If I feel a cough coming on, I'll let you know,' her husband said. He was silent for a few breaths, then groaned.  
  
'Does it hurt so badly, dear?' Diamond asked, worried.  
  
'No,' Pippin said. 'I'm just calling myself six ways a fool. We should never have gone to Buckland.'  
  
'Well, it wasn't all your fault, now was it? You were going to go by yourself, leave me to fend for myself in Tuckborough whilst you went off to see Merry... I couldn't let you go off in that way, without me to look out for you! Whenever the two of you get together, disaster follows close behind.'  
  
'Disaster?' Pippin said, in mock outrage.  
  
Diamond nodded. 'Disaster.' She gestured to the overturned coach, the darkening woods. 'See what I mean?'  
  
Her husband laughed, but it turned to a grimace. Diamond raised her voice. 'Faramir, be careful! I think the coach is shifting; try to lift the bags off without putting any weight against the side.'  
  
Faramir piped up in assent. Soon he was back with two bags. 'I think this one has blankets,' he said, 'and this other had brandy in it, don't know if it's still intact.'  
  
Diamond checked; the bottles had been well enough wrapped to be still intact. The hobbits at Brandy Hall knew their business. She pulled the cork and held it to her husband's lips. 'I'd prefer it was something hot, but this will help to keep the chill off.'*  
  
After he had drunk Diamond reclaimed the bottle and took a hefty swig herself. Pippin looked at her in shock, then memory stirred, the babe they had lost when she laboured too soon, and the midwife's attempts to stop the contractions by administering alcohol.  
  
'The babe?' he whispered.  
  
She smiled down at him. 'Don't you pay me any mind,' she said, but he heard the catch in her breath as she turned away to pull a blanket from the bag.  
  
'Faramir!' he called sharply.  
  
'Yes, Father,' his son was at his side.  
  
'D'you still have your flint and steel?'  
  
'Yes, Sir.'  
  
Pippin said, 'I want you to gather sticks and wood, scrape underneath a fallen log for something dry for kindling. Start a fire, Son, will you?'  
  
'Right away, Father.'  
  
Pippin called after him, 'Don't go too far!'  
  
Pippin reached out to catch his wife's hand. The face she turned towards him was streaked with tears. 'I can't stop it,' she said. 'I can't.'  
  
'How long do we have?' Pippin asked softly. She shook her head. 'It'll be all right, Diamond, love, we'll get through this.'  
  
'How many babes have you delivered, then?' she demanded.  
  
'Well, none from under a coach, mind...' he prevaricated.  
  
'How many?'  
  
'Well, none at all, actually... but I was there when Faramir was born. I distinctly remember you squeezing my hand so hard you left it permanently bent.'  
  
'That's something, I suppose,' she whispered.  
  
'What d'you need to do, walk around?' he asked.  
  
'No, I don't want to speed things up, I want them to slow down!' She took another swig of brandy. 'Ah, well, if it doesn't stop the labour it might at least make it more enjoyable.' Pippin coughed, and she held the bottle out to him. 'Here, you'd better have some of this as well.'  
  
Pippin drank and passed the bottle back to her. She refused it, pulling the cork from another bottle, saying, 'No, that's all right, I've got my own.'  
  
Pippin was shivering now, and Diamond insisted he drink quite a bit of the brandy. 'Well, I may die, but at least I'll die happy,' he said cheerily. 'Merry packed us some of Brandy Hall's finest, that's for true.' Diamond laughed and proposed a toast to Merry.  
  
Faramir came back with his cloak full of wood, gave his parents an odd look, and began to build the fire.  
  
Diamond suddenly put her bottle down and seized her abdomen, groaning. Faramir jumped to her side, and Pippin reached for her helplessly. Her groan changed to a terrible wordless cry.  
  
'Mother, what is it?' Faramir said in fear.  
  
'I can't stop it, I can't stop it...' she said, shaking.  
  
'Faramir, it's your little brother, he's coming now,' Pippin said urgently. 'Your mother needs your help, lad.'  
  
'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,' Diamond gasped, but her son smiled down at her.  
  
'It's all right, Mother. I've seen kittens and pups and lambs and foals born, even a calf this spring. They all went about the same way...'  
  
'Good lad,' his father said. 'Your mother will get herself ready, you just be ready to catch the babe when she says.'  
  
The boy nodded.  
  
'How's the fire coming?' his father asked.  
  
'It's laid, I just need to spark it.'  
  
'You do that,' Pippin ordered, 'Then I want you to tear one of the cloths used to wrap the brandy into little strips, can you do that? And when you're done, take my knife and hold the blade in the flame until it's very hot, then lay it down on another clean cloth. Unwrap all the bottles, fold up the cloths neatly, have them ready, we can use them to swaddle the babe.' Faramir complied quickly and competently. Meanwhile, Diamond was preparing herself as best she could.  
  
Faramir returned, lay a blanket next to his father, eased his mother down. 'You'll have to reach up under my skirts,' she said, and turned her face away with a blush.  
  
Her son smiled down at her and said, 'Don't worry, Mother, I'm just going to pretend you're a pony for the time being.'  
  
Pippin laughed and said, 'You do that, Son.' Stroking his wife's cheek, he murmured, 'The lad's got a good head on him, Diamond, it'll be all right.' At the look on her face, he said sharply to Faramir, 'Get ready, I think you're about to be a brother.'  
  
Diamond threw her head back, biting her lip, gasping for breath. As Faramir reached, he shouted, 'I see it! I see a head full of hair! He's coming!'  
  
'Push, Diamond, that's a lass,' Pippin murmured encouragement.  
  
'I am pushing,' Diamond shouted. 'If you think you can do better you're welcome to try!'  
  
'That's all right, lass,' Pippin crooned. He cocked an eye at Faramir. 'She's doing much better this time. With you, she called me all sorts of names, some of which I'd never heard before.'  
  
'Aaaugh!' cried Diamond, and suddenly Faramir was holding a slippery, tiny body in his hands. He reached a finger into the tiny mouth to clear it, rested the babe face down on his forearm, gave the back a smack and there was the sound of a lusty cry.  
  
'Tie off the cord in two places with those strips of cloth,' Pippin instructed. 'Tie it tight, then use the knife to cut between the ties. Good lad. Wrap him up, then,' Pippin said, 'And lay him on your mother's stomach.'  
  
'No,' Diamond cried, 'No, something's happening.'  
  
'Give me the babe,' Pippin said urgently, and Faramir passed the little bundle to him and lifted his mother's skirts again.  
  
'There's another head!' he cried in wonder.  
  
'Ah, Diamond, you've been eating for three all these months and you never told me,' Pippin said, cradling the babe with one arm and stroking his wife's hair back with the other.  
  
Diamond gave another great cry, and Faramir had the second little body in his hands. This time he knew what to do, quickly tying the cord off and cutting it, then wrapping the babe and laying it on his mother's stomach. 'Looks like I got a little sister, in the bargain,' he said.  
  
Diamond picked up the little daughter, crooning, 'Welcome to the world, little one! What a surprise you've given us.'  
  
Pippin, remembering Faramir's birth, instructed his son in the necessary tasks following the birth. Soon the afterbirth had been delivered, and the boy massaged his mother's abdomen as professionally as any midwife, to harden the uterus and curtail bleeding. He then took his cloak, wrapped the two babes together in it, and laid both in his mother's arms.  
  
'Good work, Mother,' he said. 'You've done a fine job.'  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'I do believe you used those same words to Lightfoot when she had her colt,' he laughed. He passed the bottle to his son. 'Here, have some brandy. You've done a man's job today.'  
  
'I wouldn't say that, exactly,' Diamond smiled, blushing again. 'But he's certainly done some kind of job.'  
  
**** Author's Notes:  
  
*The Old Gaffer's Friend was a Shire term for pneumonia  
  
***  
  
*Of course, today we wouldn't give alcohol to avoid being chilled, but they wouldn't have known that 


	3. Getting Acquainted

Chapter 3. Getting Acquainted  
  
Father and son watched in awe as the newest additions to the family nursed contentedly. Diamond had managed to position them so that both could eat at the same time, much better than listening to one wail while feeding the other, she imagined.  
  
'How do they know to do that?' Faramir whispered. His mother smiled at him, then looked back down at the babes.  
  
'They're made to do that,' Pippin answered softly. 'They're proper hobbits, after all. First thing they did when they came into the world was to sing, the next was to eat...' One of the tiny fists waved briefly. 'And look now, the next thing they're learning is how to dance.'  
  
'And how to love,' Diamond murmured, as one of the babes snuggled close to her and fell asleep.  
  
Pippin gave the lad a nudge. 'Take another blanket and cover your mother,' he said. 'She'll be catching her death...'  
  
Diamond chuckled, 'Besides which it's unseemly for me to be uncovered, even though you've seen about all there is to be seen.' She flushed and dropped her eyes, and the smile left her face.  
  
'I didn't see anything,' Faramir said. 'I was too busy pretending you were a pony.'  
  
Pippin coughed, and Diamond nodded at her partly consumed bottle of brandy. Faramir picked it up and handed it to his father. 'We're going to have to uncork another one soon,' he said.  
  
'Why, did you want some more?' his father said, and chuckled.  
  
'Now, don't you get him started! He'll be as drunk as a Brandybuck before you know it,' Diamond scolded.  
  
'No thank you, I'm warm enough,' Faramir answered, and rose to throw more wood on the fire.  
  
'What could be keeping Ferdibrand?' Diamond fretted. 'It's full dark and he's not back yet.'  
  
'Maybe he got lost,' Pippin said, upending the bottle.  
  
'On a road?'  
  
'O aye, I forgot about that...' the Thain said. 'Well, if this were a story in Frodo's book, he would have got chased by wolves, or caught up with elves who'd feed him but say neither yea nor nay when he asked for help, or carried off by eagles...'  
  
'Or caught by orcs,' Faramir said, in the spirit of things.  
  
His father sobered abruptly, and Diamond said quickly. 'There are no orcs in the Shire, you know that. It's all right, love.'*  
  
'Ummm, he ran into a pack of dwarves needing a burglar and got hauled off on an adventure,' Faramir said hastily.  
  
'That's right,' Diamond chuckled. 'More grist for the mill, Mayor Sam will have to start a whole new book.'  
  
'I'm hungry,' Faramir said suddenly. 'Got any apples in your pockets, Father?'  
  
The Thain smiled. 'Sorry, Son, I'm fresh out,' he said. 'Gave Merry my last one whilst we were waiting for the Ferry.'  
  
'As if he needed it!' Diamond said huffily. When Pippin looked at her in surprise, she went on, 'He's filling out nicely, with all that good cooking and the way Estella shamelessly stuffs him, while you've no meat on your bones!'  
  
'And to think I could have married her,' Pippin sighed. 'Every time Merry opens his mouth to say something, she pops more food in.' He shuddered. 'I could be as wide as Gimli the dwarf by now. Would you still love me if I were twice the hobbit I am?'  
  
'I would still love you if you were half the hobbit you are,' Diamond said fondly.  
  
Pippin closed his eyes. 'That's reassuring,' he sighed.  
  
'What is it, love?' Diamond said, feeling a stab of worry.  
  
He shook his head, but she insisted. Finally meeting her eyes, he said, 'I cannot feel my legs, love. They've been numb for some hours now.'  
  
'Perhaps the coach is pressing down on them, they're just asleep is all,' she said.  
  
He closed his eyes again. 'O aye,' he said. 'Then I can look forward to the pins and needles once we haul the carriage off. Probably enough to supply all the seamstresses and tailors in the Shire.' Opening his eyes, he smiled and said, 'Are you going to keep those little ones all to yourself then? Hand one of them over, at least!' Faramir silently took up one of the babes from his mother and settled it in his father's arms.  
  
Pippin sighed, pushing back the blanket slightly to peer into the tiny face. 'I forget how tiny babes are,' he breathed. 'Look at that! She's got all her parts in place. Have you ever seen such tiny eyelashes?' He brushed the little brow with his lips. 'What'll we call her, then?'  
  
'I was thinking... Forget-me-nots are my favourite flowers, you know,' Diamond said.  
  
'Forget-me-not,' Pippin murmured. 'Such a big name for such a wee lass.'  
  
'What would we call her for short?' Faramir asked.  
  
Pippin gazed deep into Diamond's eyes. 'How about "Ruby",' he said softly, 'After your sister? We'll never forget her, after all.' Diamond smiled, bending over the other twin to hide her tears.  
  
Faramir spoke up to distract his mother. 'And what about my brother? He needs a proper name.'  
  
Diamond laughed through her tears. 'We cannot call him Meriadoc,' she said, renewing an old argument.  
  
'Whyever not?' Pippin retorted.  
  
'It is just not Tookish enough! It is too much of a Brandybuck name,' she laughed.  
  
'Just plain "Merry" then,' he said.  
  
'No, that is not fancy enough to befit a son of the Thain,' she admonished. 'He's not a farmer, after all.'  
  
'He's a farmer's grandson,' The Thain chided.  
  
'Still. He'll be the Thain's brother someday, and needs a proper name!'  
  
'Merionard? Merionald? How in the world do we make "Merry" sound Tookish?'  
  
'Either of those names will work,' Diamond smiled. 'And we can still call him "Merry".'  
  
'Thank goodness for small mercies!' Pippin muttered fervently.  
  
Diamond smiled down into the small eyes that had opened, staring up at her, unfocused. 'Hello, little Merry,' she said. 'Pleased to make your acquaintance.' The babe began to nuzzle and search. 'How about another drink?' his mother said.  
  
'Sounds like a good idea to me,' his father said. Faramir pulled the cork from another bottle of brandy and handed it to his father.  
  
*** Author's Note: *This refers to an episode in "Seeing the Forest for the Trees", also posted on ff.net  
  
*The story of Diamond's sister Ruby is told in "Jewels" 


	4. Campfire Tales

4. Campfire Tales  
  
Diamond stroked the hair back from her sleeping husband's forehead as Faramir finished his story.  
  
'...and then the orc tripped the guardsman, and he fell into the stream and got his bath after all!'  
  
Diamond chuckled. Faramir got up to put more wood on the fire. 'How's he doing?'  
  
'He's asleep,' she said softly. 'D'you think you can tuck more blankets about him without waking him?'  
  
'I'll do my best.' He eased a folded blanket under his father's shoulders and back, then wrapped another around his baby sister for good measure, making sure she could still get plenty of air to breathe. 'I think she's keeping him warm,' he marveled.  
  
'O yes,' Diamond agreed. 'Better than a flannel-wrapped brick fresh from the oven,' she said. 'More cuddly, too.' She smiled down at her own bundle. 'Would you like to hold your brother a bit?'  
  
'I thought you'd never ask,' Faramir said, settling next to his mother and holding out his arms. 'I've waited a long time for him.'  
  
Diamond smiled down at her two sons. 'I know you have,' she said softly. 'The best things are worth waiting for.'  
  
'O yes, they are,' her eldest son agreed, cuddling the babe close. His eyes widened as he looked up at Diamond. 'You're right,' he said in wonder. 'He's better than a bedwarmer!'  
  
She laughed. 'He is at that,' she agreed. Looking into the fire, she sighed as she stroked her husband's hair.  
  
The white Moon rode high above the treetops, casting his cold light upon the nearby road.  
  
'I wonder where Ferdibrand is,' she said softly. 'I hope he hasn't fallen in a ditch.'  
  
'Or been kidnapped by wayward dwarves,' Faramir answered. He yawned and stretched, and cuddling the babe with one arm, got up and draped another blanket over his mother. 'That's the last blanket,' he said.  
  
'O Faramir...' she began.  
  
He interrupted. 'I'm fine, don't worry about me! I have my own bedwarmer, fresh from the hearth, remember?' He saw the worry in her face, looking down at his father, before she turned to him and smiled again. 'How about another story?' he said.  
  
'I'd like that,' his mother answered.  
  
'All right, then,' he said, falling easily into his father's storytelling lilt. 'An elf, a dwarf, and a Ranger went a-journey in the Wilds of Middle- earth upon a time; d'you remember their names, now?'  
  
'Legolas,' his mother smiled.  
  
'Yes, Legolas was his name, and the dwarf was--'  
  
'Gimli.'  
  
'And the Ranger's name doesn't matter, for Rangers never give their names, not their true names anyhow, suffice it to say he was a Ranger, and a grubby one for all that.'  
  
Having met the King a few years earlier at the Brandywine Bridge, Diamond only smiled and shook her head. He had cleaned up handsome enough.  
  
'Well, one day, don't you know, they camped aside the laughing waters of a tumbling stream and as they sat down to a cold meal of waybread and dried meat, the keen-eyed elf saw a fish jump. He was on his feet in an instant.' The lad sat up straight, his expression somehow becoming that of a hungry, keen-eyed elf.  
  
' "What is it?" the Ranger asked, hand to his sword. "Is there an enemy approaching, Legolas?" '  
  
' "Yes," said the elf softly, (for you know they speak stiff and proper, elves do), "a veritable army waits to be slain." He smiled then, and the Ranger relaxed. "I have a hunger for freshly caught fish, can I interest you in some?" '  
  
' "We really ought not have a fire..." the Ranger began, but the elf interrupted him.'  
  
' "The wood is dry and will make little enough smoke," he said. "And I think the Fellowship will travel all the better on the morrow for a good meal now." His companions agreed, and he and the Ranger walked to the stream. They had fished together before, you see, and each knew his place. There were great bodies moving under the waters, and the companions' mouths began to water even as they watched.' In his eyes, the boy's mother could see the flicker of fins beneath the surface of a fast moving stream.  
  
'And so the elf skipped across the slippery stones as light of foot as a hobbit treading his garden path in the cool of the evening,' he went on. 'Suddenly he dipped to the surface of the water, and quicker than your eye could see he flipped a fish into the air, right to the Ranger, who caught it, slapped it against a rock, and tossed it on the bank, standing ready for another.'  
  
Holding the sleeping babe in one arm, the lad's other hand gestured expressively, and Diamond could almost picture the scene. 'One fish, then two, then three they caught, and then he gazed long into the stream whilst the companions watched the great shapes moving lazily in the current.'  
  
Diamond nodded, having heard the story many times, but enjoying the retelling with all the same cadences that her husband used to tell it.  
  
'Now remember, there was a dwarf in the party...'  
  
'Gimli,' she put in, as expected.  
  
'O aye, that's right, and he was a mite impatient, he was. He stepped for'ards, saying, "We might as well die of hunger before you finish your task! With all the big fish in the stream, why don't you catch just one and be done with it!" '  
  
' "Why don't you give it a try?" shouted the elf with a laugh. "Let's see who can catch the bigger fish! Would you like to put a wager on it?" The wood elves are great ones for playing games and wagering you know.'  
  
'Yes, I'd heard that,' Pippin murmured, and Diamond looked down to see him awake, watching his son with mingled amusement and pride.  
  
' "You're on!" cried the dwarf, "Just watch how a dwarf fishes! Why, 'tis as easy as..." '  
  
'One, two, three!' Pippin and Diamond chimed in.  
  
The lad nodded, continuing. 'And so the dwarf went a-wading into the stream, poised tensely above the water, waiting for a monster to come to him. But alas, just as he bent to the water, a treacherous rock turned beneath his foot and threw him into the stream. The playful water became suddenly a beast of prey, seizing the dwarf in its claws, dashing his head against a rock to subdue him, clutching him and dragging him down to where the rapids would toss him like a cat with a hapless mouse.'  
  
Pippin uncorked his bottle of brandy and took a swig, corked it again, and motioned for Faramir to go on.  
  
'The Ranger dashed along the bank, but the elf ran lightly from rock to rock in the midst of the stream until he outraced the current and turned back. He seized the dwarf as best he could, taking him by his beard and dragging him to the shore to the arms of the waiting Ranger. Together they pulled him up on the bank and squeezed the water from his lungs. And while they awaited his awakening, they caught the rest of the string of fish and fried up a fine fish supper...'  
  
Diamond saw Pippin shiver, and urged him to drink some more.  
  
'I hate to drink alone,' he said, so she toasted him with her own bottle, taking the merest sip. She wasn't the one lying on the cold ground under a coach, after all.  
  
'Drink up,' she said. 'There's more where that came from.' He finished the bottle and she uncorked another, just to be ready for him when he needed it. 'Go on, Faramir, we're listening.'  
  
'Well, some time later the dwarf awakened and wanted to know what happened. The elf was delighted to enlighten him. We'd saved him some fish, as a matter of fact, but for some reason he'd lost his taste for them that night. Glowering from under his bushy eyebrows, and fingering his beard as if suspicious that somewhat might have happened to it whilst he slept, he muttered, "We'll just have to have our fishing contest another time." '  
  
The boy stopped to adjust the blanket around his little brother, then looked up again. ' "Oh, no, Master Dwarf, we won't!" cried the elf. "What d'you mean, Master Elf?" the dwarf growled.' The boy stopped to grin.  
  
' "Why, you see, Master Dwarf," chuckled the elf, "I've already won the contest! You see, I've caught the biggest fish of all! Just as easy as one- two-three!" And you know, of course, he had...' 


	5. More Guests Arrive at the Party

Chapter 5. More Guests Arrive at the Party  
  
When the rescuers arrived, the Thain was singing a completely disgraceful song he'd learned off a soldier of Gondor. Diamond and Faramir were doing a creditable job of harmonizing on the choruses.  
  
Ferdibrand Took shook his head at the sight. 'Drunk as a Brandybuck,' he sighed, noting the discarded bottles.  
  
Pippin finished the last chorus and blinked up at the rescuers. 'O hullo, cousin,' he said blearily to Ferdibrand. 'How about a drink?'  
  
'No, thank you, Sir,' Ferdibrand answerd.  
  
'Don't mind if I do,' the Thain said, raising his bottle.  
  
Diamond giggled. 'I don't think you need any more, love,' she said. 'The rescuers have got here.'  
  
'They have?' the Thain asked pleasantly, blinking at her. 'O yes, so they have,' he agreed, then looked down at the bottle, shaking it as if to ascertain the contents. 'Wonderful stuff,' he said. 'Very good vintage.' He tried to focus on Ferdibrand who had crouched by his side as other hobbits were affixing ropes to the coach and throwing them over sturdy tree branches above. 'Kills the pain, you know.'  
  
'Are you in much pain, cousin?' Ferdibrand asked sympathetically, and not without a stab of alarm.  
  
The Thain laughed. 'No, none at all!' he gasped. 'See how well it works?'  
  
Ferdibrand shook his head, meeting Faramir's eye as the Mistress giggled. The lad simply shrugged and rolled his eyes, and suddenly Ferdibrand had to stifle the impulse to laugh. Poor lad, what an ordeal.  
  
'How were the wolves?' Diamond asked. 'Did you give them our regards?' ...and she and the Thain were off again in a gale of laughter.  
  
'Wolves?' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'Don't ask,' Faramir muttered.  
  
Just then, Ferdibrand heard the unmistakable sound of a baby's cry. Smiling mischievously, the Mistress pushed aside the blanket wrapped about her. 'Meet your newest cousin,' she said.  
  
'And don't forget his sister,' added the Thain, patting his own blanket. Ferdibrand stared in shock at Faramir, who nodded and smiled. He shook his head. It was a wonder the lad hadn't followed his parents' example and taken to drink.  
  
A hobbit stepped up to them, saying quietly, 'We're ready.'  
  
'Right,' Ferdibrand said. He reached down to unwrap the blankets around the Thain, finding the babe. 'Let me greet her properly,' he said. Picking up the blanket-wrapped bundle, he smiled at the perfect little lass, peacefully asleep, face screwed up in an expression of intense concentration. 'Hullo, cousin,' he said softly. 'Welcome to the world.' He turned to hand the babe into Faramir's waiting arms, then bent again to take the Thain under his armpits. Looking up at the waiting hobbit, he nodded and said, 'Ready.'  
  
The other stood back and waved his lantern. 'Ready! On three!' he shouted. He gave the count, and on the last number the hobbits hauled together on the ropes, the coach lifted slightly, and Ferdibrand pulled on Pippin as hard as he could, falling backwards with the Thain atop him. Bare seconds later the coach shuddered as it slipped from whatever had propped it in the first place and settled lower in the ditch.  
  
Breathing heavily, Ferdibrand clutched at the Thain. He felt Pippin's shoulders shaking, and crawled out from under him. 'How badly are you hurt, Sir?' he asked, then realized that the Took was shaking with laughter.  
  
Finally the Thain ran a hand across his eyes and spoke. 'See,' he said to Diamond. 'I told you it would be no trouble at all. Just "one, two, theree" and...' he was off again, laughing. The Mistress joined him in merriment, and Ferdibrand shook his head. Ah, well. He supposed it could have been worse. Much worse. He bent to the Thain. 'I suppose I'll have that drink now.'  
  
He took the half empty bottle that Pippin extended to him and took a long, satisfying swig. Brandy Hall had indeed sent its finest.  
  
'Come on, now, you lot,' he said. 'Fun's over for the night. Let's get you all home.' 


	6. Farmhouse Hospitality

Chapter 6. Farmhouse Hospitality  
  
A grizzled hobbit with a healer's touch knelt beside the Thain. 'Let me check him over quickly before we move him any further,' he said to Ferdibrand. He looked penetratingly into the Thain's face. 'Good evening, Sir, I am Botham, healer in these parts.'  
  
Pippin nodded back, 'Lovely evening,' he said. The healter went over him quickly, then bent at Pippin's head again. 'Let's get him into the wagon. Carefully, now.' Several hobbits worked together to ease the Thain onto a blanket, and using the blanket as a stretcher, lifted him in to the first wagon, nestling him on a straw tick that had been placed on the wagon bed and cocooning him with blankets. Diamond and Faramir were handed up next, and as soon as they were settled, the babes were placed in their arms. Botham climbed in, then Ferdibrand settled himself, called to the driver, and they were off at a slow pace.  
  
'The others will salvage all they can of the baggage tonight,' Ferdibrand told them, 'and in the morning we'll see about the coach.'  
  
'Did we salvage any of the brandy?' Diamond asked.  
  
Ferdibrand frowned at her, for all she was Mistress, but she jerked her chin significantly at the Thain and his cousin realized that Pippin was beginning to shiver violently. 'We'll get him warmed up soon,' he said. The healer had noticed the shivering also, and spoke to the driver. The ponies began to trot. Lantern carrying riders went before to light the road. There would be no more overturning this night if Ferdibrand could help it.  
  
It seemed to Diamond a long time before she saw welcoming lights pouring from the windows of a sprawling farmhouse. Her husband spoke, and she bent closer to hear. 'N-n-next t-time let's overturn the coach a little c-c- closer to civilization, shall we?' he chattered.  
  
'Yes, let's do,' she agreed, tucking the blankets more tightly about him, for all the good they seemed to be doing. The wagon pulled up before the door, and the healer jumped out, shouting orders. Diamond and Faramir followed as Ferdibrand helped carry the Thain into the kitchen, where a steaming tub of water waited.  
  
The farmer's wife placed a gentle hand on Diamond's arm. 'Come, Mistress,' she said. 'Let's get you clean and comfortable as well, and you can attend him again.' Diamond allowed herself to be led away. It was a relief to get cleaned up and changed into warm, dry clothing. The farmer's wife smiled as she lifted the simple shift over Diamond's head. 'I haven't worn this since my last babe came two years ago,' she said. She wrapped a shawl about Diamond's shoulders, then took up a brush and gently brushed out the tangled curls, picking out leaves and twigs, braiding it and fastening it neatly up. 'There you are, my lady,' she said warmly, and Diamond thanked her.  
  
The two eldest daughters brought in the babes, clean and fresh, diapered and clothed, and nestled them in Diamond's arms to nurse. While Diamond's arms were engaged, the farmer's wife fed her warm, nourishing soup; then the two mothers chatted about various childbirths they'd attended or experienced as the daughters settled the babes for a nap.  
  
'Would ye like to take your rest now?' the farmer's wife asked, and Diamond shook her head. 'Take my arm, then, we'll go back to the kitchen.'  
  
Pippin was still in the steaming bath, kept hot with fresh additions of water from the stove, face tight with the pain of returning circulation in his legs, and the healer was coaxing hot sweet tea into him. Diamond took up her husband's hand to add her encouragement. 'Come, love, drink it now, do,' she said. 'It'll help you get warm.' She looked up at the farmer's wife. 'He'd drink for you better if it were hot milk with honey and a touch of nutmeg,' she said. 'It's about the only way he'll take honey willingly.'  
  
'Aye, and put some brandy in't,' the healer added. 'I'd take some of that, myself.' Diamond smiled.  
  
'I'll get right on't,' the farmer's wife said. She was as good as her word, and they were able to get several cups of the warmed milk into the Thain before his eyelids drooped and his chin began to nod.  
  
'Bed's all ready,' the farmer's eldest daughter said. 'All warmed up, and we've fresh bricks in the oven.'  
  
'Right, then,' the healer said. Soon the Thain was out of the tub, dried, and in the bed. The healer had made a quick examination upon their arrival, pronouncing no bones broken, and said, 'I'll check him over more carefully after he's had some sleep, Mistress. The thing that worries me most at the moment is the chill he's taken, and we've done about all we can do about that.' He fixed Diamond with his eye. 'And now, if you'll just climb into the bed next to your husband, I'd like to take a quick look at you.'  
  
She hesitated, wishing for the familiar comfort of Healer Woodruff, then complied. He was gentle and quick, and soon she was tucked under the covers next to her husband, drifting off to sleep. She almost didn't hear the farmer's wife say, 'We'll bring you the babes when they wake.' Nodding sleepily, she turned to wrap her arms about her slumbering husband, soon joining him in dream. 


	7. Morning After

Chapter 7. Morning After  
  
Pippin slept through until morning, not even waking when Diamond was roused to nurse the twins. He was muzzy when he finally turned over, and she kissed his forehead with a smile. 'Good morning, my love.'  
  
'Is it?' he muttered.  
  
'Mmmm,' she said. 'Methinks we overdosed you last night, trying to keep you warm.'  
  
'Methinks you are right,' he said, turning over and pulling the pillow over his head.  
  
A tap came on the door and the farmer's wife entered with a tray. 'Good morning,' she smiled. 'Are we awake yet?'  
  
There was a groan from under the pillow, and Diamond answered, 'No, not quite. I think we are not quite ready to greet the day.'  
  
'Ah. Perhaps a cup of tea, then,' the farmer's wife smiled. 'By the way, we weren't properly introduced last night, in all the bustle.' She put the tray down on the dresser and turned to make a courtesy. 'I'm Columbine Took, at your service, Mistress.'  
  
'And at your family's,' Diamond answered properly. 'You've already done a great service. Thank you for your hospitality.'  
  
'It's the least we can do for the Took and his family,' Columbine answered.  
  
'Biney! we're off!' came the farmer's voice, and a distant door slammed.  
  
'They're going to try to raise your coach,' Columbine said. 'If nothing's bad amiss with it you can continue on to the Great Smials later today. Otherwise, you're welcome to stay as long as you need.'  
  
'Thank you,' Diamond said. She heard the babes stir, the crowing noise that meant it was someone else's breakfast time.  
  
'Here,' Columbine said, pouring out a cup of tea and adding milk and honey. 'You get this down quick whilst we get the babes ready for their breakfast.' She took up one little bundle, and her eldest daughter came in to take the other, and cooing and chuckling they took the babes out.  
  
'Pippin, love, would you like a cup of tea?' A wordless moan answered her, and she grinned and turned to her own cup. She was just finishing as the babes reappeared, and soon their nursing was the only sound in the room.  
  
Diamond enjoyed a hearty breakfast in bed whilst her husband steadfastly remained under his pillow. She nudged him, but he made no answer. 'You really ought to eat something, sweetheart.'  
  
'You're not going to start that again,' he came up long enough to mutter. 'You're as bad as Estella.' He buried himself once more.  
  
Midmorning, Columbine came in with a covered mug. 'Healer's orders,' she said cheerfully. 'We're to put the Thain out of his suffering.'  
  
'We've already had the burial,' Diamond said. 'Let me see if I can unearth him again.' She nudged her husband. 'My love, the stables are afire and the roof of the Smials has fallen in.'  
  
'That's nice,' Pippin said from under the pillow. 'Call me when the flames burn nicely down to coals; we'll roast mushrooms and bacon then.' She tickled him and he slapped her hand away, finally coming to the surface.  
  
'Good morning, Sir,' Columbine said unperturbed. 'The healer says you're to drink this all down at one go, while it's still hot. It'll do your head some good.'  
  
'Taking my head off would do the most good, I suspect,' he muttered, but he gulped down the tea and handed back the mug with gruff thanks. She made him a graceful courtesy (Diamond suspected she'd been practicing once the Thain was housed under her roof) and left the room.  
  
There was another tap on the door.  
  
'My, we're popular this morning,' Pippin said. 'Come!'  
  
Ferdibrand stuck his head in. 'You unpickled yet?' he asked.  
  
'Not quite, but getting fresher every moment,' Pippin answered.  
  
Ferdibrand laughed and entered the rest of the way. 'Good morning, Diamond,' he said.  
  
'Good morning to you, too!' Diamond said. 'How's the coach?'  
  
'Remarkably intact, just a few scratches and tears. The structure is sound. We can be off to Tuckborough whenever you wish.' He peered intently at Pippin.  
  
'What is it?' the Thain said, interpreting the look.  
  
Ferdibrand shook his head. 'You have got to be the luckiest hobbit in the Shire.'  
  
'I keep telling him that,' Diamond smiled, twining her arm through her husband's, but Ferdibrand did not smile in return.  
  
'By all rights there ought to be two of you this morning, cousin,' he said soberly.  
  
'That would make it easier to be Thain, now wouldn't it. Could be two places at once,' Pippin said.  
  
'What do you mean, cousin?' Diamond asked.  
  
A look of wonder crossed Ferdibrand's face and his eyes focused on a far away point, seeing something not in the room with them. 'There was a small stump,' he said slowly, making a circle with his two hands, 'not large, but sturdy enough to take the weight of the coach, even strong enough to stand up under that weight for hours.' He looked back to Pippin and Diamond. 'Part of the frame rested on't. Didn't take much for the coach to slip off, just a little jiggle really. A handspan to either side...' he shook his head again, 'just a handspan, cousin, and Tookland would be looking for a new Thain this morning.' He straightened, said, 'Well, I've no time for any more chit chat. Got to see to packing up the coach again.'  
  
'Do we have ponies?' Pippin asked dryly.  
  
'No, I thought I'd pull the coach myself,' Ferdibrand said. 'What kind of question is that?'  
  
'Thank you, Ferdibrand,' Diamond said.  
  
'Right. We can leave just after elevenses if you wish.'  
  
'That'll be fine,' Pippin answered. 'Can't lie about in bed all the day, no matter how good the company is.' Diamond gave him a push and he grinned.  
  
'All right then, I'll see to things,' Ferdibrand said, and left the room.  
  
Soon after the healer breezed in. 'Good morning, Sir, and how did we sleep?'  
  
Pippin eyed him warily. 'I don't know about you, but I slept like a rock until people started rooting under me like a hog after truffles.'  
  
'Fine, fine,' the healer smiled. He looked piercingly at the Thain. 'Those herbs ought to be taking effect soon.'  
  
'They are, thank you,' Pippin admitted. He stretched.  
  
'Well, then, let's take a look at those legs of yourn,' the healer said. He pulled back the covers. Diamond watched the examination closely. 'Looks as if you've come out relatively intact,' was the final verdict.  
  
'Good,' Pippin said, starting to swing his legs to the side of the bed.  
  
His right leg dragged, and the healer came to attention. Without comment, he helped the Thain to sit up. 'Easy, now, Sir, let's take it slow.' When Pippin's feet were firmly on the floor, he rose, frowning with concentration, and would have fallen if the healer had not been on the spot. Easing him back down, Botham said, 'Let's see what the trouble is.' He took a pin from his lapel. 'Now, Sir, I'd like you to lie back and close your eyes whilst we check things out.' He began to poke his way along the left leg, murmuring, 'D'you feel that, now? How about that?'  
  
Diamond watched her husband endure this treatment with unusual restraint, and she began to worry. Something must be truly wrong for him to be so cooperative. The healer finished with the left leg, turning to the right. He patiently went over the leg several times, then sat back, sticking the pin back in his lapel. He proceeded to manipulate the leg, giving orders to the Thain all the while. Finally he helped Pippin to sit up, propping pillows behind him.  
  
'What news do you have for me?' Pippin asked soberly.  
  
'Well, ye can wiggle your toes, that's something,' said the healer. 'No bones are broken that I can tell, though I could feel an old break, long healed.' Pippin nodded. 'What does the leg feel like?'  
  
'Like it's asleep. Some pins and needles, just not the one you poked into me.'  
  
The healer nodded. 'That's an encouraging sign. Let's try again, see if it'll take your weight.' He eased the Thain over to the side of the bed, steadied him as he rose. Diamond held her breath; he was standing. She started to let the breath out, only to see the treacherous leg fold beneath him, threatening to spill him to the floor but for the healer's firm grasp.  
  
Pippin sat down again, raising a trembling hand to rub the back of his neck. 'Well,' he said. 'We seem to have a problem.' 


	8. Playing the Part

Author's note: As to Faramir being able to deliver the twins, well, didn't you hear that story on the news last year about the 7 year old boy who helped his mother deliver his baby sibling (I forget if it was a brother or sister)? Of course, he didn't cut the cord, but he did everything else that was necessary, until the paramedics arrived and took over. I figure that Faramir, under his father's watchful eye, could manage equally well. He is ten, but precocious for all that. And remember how very small hobbit babies must be, especially twins, which would be smaller than the average single birth.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 8. Playing the Part  
  
'We rely upon your discretion,' Ferdibrand said solemnly, fixing the healer with a sober eye.  
  
'O aye, of course,' the healer said. He did not bridle at the warning, realizing the seriousness of the situation. If this news about the Thain were to leak out...  
  
'What's to be done, then?' Pippin asked. 'Obviously I am not going to be able to walk out of here on my own two legs, and to be carried out...'  
  
'But that's just the thing!' the healer interrupted. 'Don't you see, Sir, you've such a reputation built up, it will be as simple as pie! And I've my own reputation to consider... my wife calls me a "fussy old woman" and I mean to live up to it.' There was a tap on the door, and he raised his voice as it opened. '...and you will allow yourself to be *carried* to the coach, Thain, and tucked up on cushions and properly cared for...if I have to tie you hand and foot to do so! If you insist upon returning to the Great Smials now instead of resting as I have advised, you will heed me in this at least.'  
  
Diamond played her part, placing a pleading hand on Pippin's arm. 'Please, love,' she coaxed. 'It is such a little thing. If we must leave today, you can let them carry you to the coach, now, can't you? And then you can settle in your own bed at home and heal at your leisure. Why, you'll be up in a week, I warrant!'  
  
Pippin made a great show of scowling. 'It goes against the grain...' he grumbled, then relented at his wife's face. 'O all right,' he said, giving in at the sight of her wistful eyes. 'I will, for you, love.' He was rewarded when her anxious look was replaced with a smile, and he kissed her palm before releasing her hand.  
  
Looking up, Ferdibrand said, 'Yes?' to the farmer hovering in the doorway.  
  
'Your son sorted out the bags, and picked out fresh clothing for you, Sir and Lady,' he said to the Thain, still overawed by his august visitors.  
  
'Thank you,' Ferdibrand said smoothly, taking the bundle from the farmer's hands. He put on his stiffest manner. 'I don't know how to thank you for all you've done,' he said formally. 'Your assistance to the Thain and his family have been invaluable. Some sort of suitable reward...'  
  
The farmer put up a restraining hand. 'No, no,' he said earnestly, reddening with pleasure, shaking his head, 'It was indeed our honour to have the Thain grace our humble abode.'  
  
He turned and bowed to Pippin, who inclined his head nobly and thanked him gravely. Flustered, the farmer backed out of the room, still protesting his gratitude at having been able to serve. Ferdibrand eased him out and closed the door, then dropped his official mien and flopped into a chair with a sigh.  
  
'That was beautiful, cousin,' Pippin said soberly. 'The King's chancellor couldn't have done better.'  
  
'Chancellor,' Ferdibrand mused. 'I like the sound of that. D'you suppose Tookland could use a chancellor?'  
  
'The position's yours if you'll have it,' Pippin nodded. 'Of course, with such responsibility on your shoulders, you'll command a salary nearly as great as the Thain's.'  
  
Ferdibrand shot his cousin a sharp glance. 'You don't draw a salary.'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin sighed. 'I was afraid you'd noticed that.'  
  
And so the Thain allowed Ferdibrand and the farmer to carry him out to the coach, to be settled upon the waiting cushions and tucked up with a multitude of blankets. Diamond was handed in next, her feet propped up, and then two well-padded basketfuls of sleeping babes were laid close at hand. Last, Faramir climbed in, shouting cheerful farewells to the farm lads who had shown him a grand time during their short stay. Ferdibrand shut the coach door and climbed up on the seat. With his whip, he saluted the hobbits gathered to see them off, chirruped to the ponies, and guided the coach smoothly into the road to Tuckborough.  
  
Upon arrival before the Great Smials, Ferdibrand jumped down off the coach as a stable lad seized the ponies' reins. 'Hold them a moment, lad,' he said, and entered the main door. He was gone some time, emerging at last with Reginard, who came out beaming to greet the Thain and the newest arrivals. He helped Diamond down, placing her in the hands of attentive cousins who fluttered about excitedly. He reached into the coach again and carefully handed out the two baskets of babe to more eager hands. Healer Woodruff came out in time to say sternly, 'Now Thain, I will brook no argument, you will suffer yourself to be carried into the Smials or pay the penalty!'  
  
'And what is the penalty, pray tell?' the Thain asked.  
  
'An extra week in bed!' she said, shaking a finger at him. 'And do not think I won't carry through on't!'  
  
'Very well,' the Thain said resignedly, shaking his head in exasperation as Reginard and Ferdibrand took him between them and carried him in. 


	9. Consultation

Chapter 9. Consultation  
  
'I think Meriabrand a reasonable compromise,' the Chancellor of Tookland said thoughtfully. 'Tookish enough, yet still honours the hobbit he's to be named for.'  
  
' 'Tis a fine-sounding name, I'll admit,' the Steward of Tookland said, with a sip of his brandy. 'My, but the Hall surely knows its business,' he said. 'This stuff gets better every year.'  
  
'No comparison to Tookland's ales, of course,' the Chancellor said after rolling his own sip about his mouth and letting it linger on the tongue.  
  
'Of course.' The Steward savoured another sip and went on, 'A fine-sounding name, and yet methinks "Merianard" has more of a ring to it.' He turned to the Thain. 'Wouldn't you agree, Sir?'  
  
The Thain made a great show of considering, then shook his head. 'I still like the name "Meriadoc". It's true to the original.'  
  
Both of his counselors shook their heads. 'Ah, no, 'twon't do, 'twon't do at all,' the Steward muttered regretfully. He hated to disagree with the Thain, but felt he must hold firm on this point. 'If the lad were a Brandybuck, perhaps. But he's the son of a Took and a north-Took, and son of the Thain to boot. I'm sorry, Sir, but you've got to face facts.' It was bad enough that the heir to Tookland had an outlandish name, even if it were shared by the Prince of Ithilien. Wherever that might be.  
  
'Reginard,' the Thain said to his steward, 'I will take your suggestion under serious consideration.' He turned towards his chancellor, 'As I will take yours as well, Ferdibrand.'  
  
There was a tap on the door, and the Thain said, 'Come!'  
  
A servant stuck his head in and said, 'Begging your pardon, Sir, but the Healer Botham's come and is asking to see you.'  
  
'Thank you, Sandy, show him right in,' Pippin said. Reginard and Ferdibrand rose to greet Botham, and the Thain smiled, saying, 'Pardon me for not getting up.'  
  
'Sandy, please ask Healer Woodruff to attend the Thain in his quarters,' Reginard said.  
  
'Very good, Sir,' the servant answered, lingering a moment to pick up a few items from the floor and straighten a picture on the wall. It was a constant battle to keep these rooms straight, and he took every opportunity to stay ahead of the fight. At the steward's nod, he bowed and turned to the door.  
  
The healer returned the smile, taking the chair that Reginard indicated. 'How are you this fine day, Sir?'  
  
'Couldn't be better,' the Thain said. 'This bed and I are on a first-name basis.'  
  
'And after only a week, to have established such a friendship!' the healer said. Chuckling, Sandy closed the door behind him. He was surprised they'd been able to keep the Thain abed a week without more uproar than they'd had.  
  
The hobbits continued to make small talk until another tap sounded on the door, and it swung wide to admit the head healer of the Great Smials, a short, plump hobbit matron with graying curls and a grandmotherly manner. Ferdibrand surrendered his chair to her and took up his station outside the firmly closed door.  
  
'Has there been any change?' Botham said as the healers examined the offending leg. 'Let me see you wiggle those toes, now, Sir. Good, how about just the big toe?' He nodded to himself at the resulting twitch.  
  
The Thain lay back and suffered himself to be poked and prodded, only commenting at one point, 'There's nothing wrong with the left leg, mind! You don't have to poke it so hard. You'll have it bleeding in another moment.'  
  
'Be brave, lad,' Woodruff chided as if he were a hobbit lad of ten. 'We're almost finished.' She was true to her word, for soon the Thain was tucked back under the covers and the healers took their chairs, declining the offer of brandy.  
  
'Well?' said Reginard quietly.  
  
'As far as I can tell, everything's there that should be there,' Botham said, looking to Woodruff for confirmation. 'Nothing's been crushed. P'rhaps something got pinched. You were a long time under the coach, circulation might have been depressed for too long.'  
  
Woodruff shook her head, 'Yet there's no sign of degeneration,' she said. 'I don't see the same sort of damage you'd see, say, from leaving a tourniquet on too long.' She met the Thain's eyes. 'At first I thought we might have to take the leg, but the foot is warm and you *can* wiggle those toes. You have some movement in't, and that's a good sign.'  
  
'Why won't it stand up under weight, then?' Pippin asked.  
  
Botham said, 'Something got flattened as shouldn't have. Still, you're no worse than you were a week ago. It's possible you might still make a full recovery.'  
  
'How long?' the Thain asked. 'I can't stay abed forever. People are already starting to talk.'  
  
'I can put it about that we suspect a crack or break in the bone and have warned you in no uncertain terms to stay abed whilst it heals,' Woodruff said. It would be all too easy to spread a rumour.  
  
'You'll need to keep working those muscles, though, or you'll have nothing to walk with when the feeling does come back,' Botham added. If the feeling comes back, the Thain silently added to himself.  
  
Woodruff nodded, 'I'll see to it.' The Thain smiled. She was his harshest taskmaster these days.  
  
'A month in bed, working the muscles as much as possible, mind, and we'll see what's what,' Botham said. 'You can run Tookland well enough from here.'  
  
Reginard spoke up. 'You can count on Ferdibrand and me, you know that, cousin.' Pippin nodded.  
  
'The Thain ran Tookland from his bed that whole last year,' Woodruff murmured. 'And he still had people asking him "How high?" when he told them to jump.'  
  
Pippin chuckled to hide his dismay. A month seemed enough of an eternity to him.  
  
***  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I have double pneumonia, which is robbing my energy, so my output is down to a mere chapter a day on the new story and may drop further over the weekend when my dh gets home and orders me off to bed. Cannot express my Tookishness when he's underfoot. Anyone who feels inclined to pray for our quick recovery (for two of the three wee hobbits also have pneumonia, it turns out), well, we covet your prayers indeed.  
  
Budgielover: excellent reviews.  
  
Your first point, about apostrophes versus quotation marks. I am such a perfectionist it is frightening. (so why are there still typos in my chapters, I ask? my muse buries herself in her pina colada and smirks secretly)  
  
In my well-worn copy of LOTR, normal conversation is conducted within apostrophes. Quotes within quotes are bracketed with quotation marks. If it's good enough for Professor Tolkien, whose pen nibs I am not worthy to repair, it's good enough for me.  
  
Your second point, about Diamond being so chipper after having twins: This comes of childbirth classes and my own experience. I remember being absolutely totally exhausted in the last stage, but as soon as the babe was delivered there was this incredible surge of energy that lasted a couple of hours! I thought all I'd want to do is sleep when finished, but... sleep? what's that? So Diamond gets to have that surge of energy, coupled with the relaxation that sipping the best of Brandy Hall brings...  
  
Hope this clears up any confusion. 


	10. Waiting

10. Waiting  
  
'Meriagrim?' Faramir suggested, fingers busy with knife and wood.  
  
'O be careful there,' his father said. 'You must make the holes exactly where I marked them or the flute will not be true when it's played.' He held out his hand. 'Here, let me see that a moment.'  
  
Faramir handed over the half-carved flute and watched, holding his breath, as his father examined the work.  
  
'I think we can salvage this,' the Thain muttered. He took a carving tool from the leather case on the bed and made a few small adjustments, then measured carefully. 'Yes,' he said critically. 'That's got it.' He handed the flute back to his son, saying, 'Now watch the guide markings carefully, mind!'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Faramir said, and fell back to his work a little more cautiously. 'Work haste'd is work wasted,' he said, and his father smiled.  
  
'That's right, Son.' Pippin stretched and said, picking up the earlier topic, 'No, somehow "Merry" and "grim" just do not fit together in the same breath.'  
  
'How about Meriadin, then?' Faramir chuckled. 'He's certainly living up to that at the moment.'  
  
'Ah, his tea's a bit late is all,' Pippin said. 'Believe you me, I feel the same way sometimes.'  
  
'But you never yell,' his son answered.  
  
The Thain smiled. 'Of course not,' he said. 'You want to save your yell for something really important.'  
  
'Like what?' Faramir asked absently.  
  
'I haven't found anything that important yet,' Pippin said, 'but when I do I'll be sure to let you know.'  
  
There was a tap on the door and Sandy entered with the tea tray. 'Sorry tea's a bit late, Sir,' the servant said. 'There was a ruckus in the kitchen.'  
  
'O?' asked the Thain, mildly.  
  
'Aye, seems the cook's misplaced the measuring spoons.'  
  
The Thain glanced over at his son, who was absorbed in a tricky bit of carving. 'Well that ought to make the job more interesting,' he said. 'Sometimes it seems to me as if the cook might want a bit of stirring up, sometimes. We've had ham three times this week already.'  
  
Sandy handed the Thain his cup of tea, black and strong as he liked it, with no sweetening. 'Would you like your tea now, young master?' he asked Faramir.  
  
The lad shook his head. 'No, I'll get it in a minute,' he answered absently.  
  
'Very well, Sir. Will that be all?' Sandy said, straightening.  
  
'Yes, Sandy, very good, thank you. You may come and take the tray away later, we'll help ourselves,' the Thain said. The servant bowed and left to take the Thain's message to the head cook. No more ham for at least another week.  
  
'Funny how things go missing, you'd think the kitchen staff would be more careful where they put things after washing up,' Pippin mused aloud.  
  
'O aye,' his son agreed, still working assiduously.  
  
Pippin leaned back on the pillows with a sigh. 'Ah, well, as long as they don't get so careless as to switch the salt with the sugar,' he said. 'I couldn't abide sugar on my eggs in the morning.'  
  
'O I'm sure they wouldn't do anything that would truly inconvenience you, Father,' Faramir answered. He put his tool down for a moment to share a smile with the Thain.  
  
Another tap came on the door, and Reginard poked his head in at the Thain's answer.  
  
Pippin smiled at Faramir. 'That's all for now, Faramir. We'll work on it some more this evening, I think, if naught else interrupts us.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the lad said, carefully fitting each carving tool into its proper place in the case and putting the flute and tool case up on a shelf, and coming back to stand at attention by the bed.  
  
The Thain smiled at his son. 'Next I think you ought to take Socks for an outing,' he said. 'We wouldn't want that old pony to get stale, now, would we? He might start switching the labels on the spice jars, and if the cooks didn't notice dinner might not be edible this night.'  
  
Laughing, the lad answered, 'Yes, Father,' and walked from the room, a bounce in his step.  
  
The two grown hobbits watched him go with fond smiles. The Thain sighed and shook his head. 'Does he look taller to you?'  
  
'He's growing,' Reginard agreed. 'Maybe he's found some of those ent- draughts you like to tell about.' He rolled out the plans he'd brought with him, smoothing them in the Thain's lap. 'Here's what we came up with for spring planting,' he said. 'Thought we'd do some crop rotation in this section, production was off a bit last year and...'  
  
Once the Thain had approved the plans, Reginard rolled the paper up again and fastened it with a piece of twine. 'I'll get right on't,' he said, then poured himself a cup of tea. 'You want one of these cakes?' he said.  
  
'Is it seedcake?' Pippin asked.  
  
'No, looks like cherry tart,' was the answer.  
  
'I'll just have a sandwich instead,' the Thain said, and his steward made a mental note to tell the kitchen that seedcake should be added to tea trays until future notice.  
  
Reginard helped himself to a couple of tarts and sat down again. The Thain had the faraway look again, that Regi had seen once in a wild bird trapped in a cage, pining for the sky. To distract him, the steward said, 'So, cousin, does that wee babe have a name yet?'  
  
Pippin smiled and sipped at his tea. 'No, we've managed to eliminate a few more, though,' he said.  
  
'It's nearly a month since his birth; his naming day's coming up soon,' Regi said. 'What are you going to do?'  
  
'He might always answer to "Hoi! You there!" ' Pippin answered.  
  
'There's always that,' Regi conceded, taking a bite of his tart. 'Mmmm, these are good,' he said, 'are you sure you don't want one?'  
  
'No, thank you, I'm fine,' the Thain said, laying aside his sandwich after only a bite or two.  
  
Reginard didn't ask after the leg. He knew very well; he grilled the healers after each day's exercise session. Instead he said, 'Your wife told me to make sure you eat every scrap of food on the tray today.'  
  
'Ah, sending you to do her dirty work for her, eh?' Pippin said equably with another sip of his tea.  
  
'O aye,' Regi said, 'and she'll have my hide if there's food on the tray when it goes back to the kitchen.  
  
'I suppose you'll have to help me eat it, then,' the Thain answered. 'If I try to take another bite, I'll choke.' His eyes regained their faraway look and he sighed. 'Sure wish these rooms weren't so far inward,' he said absently. 'I'd dearly like to have a look out a window.' Then he recalled himself and sat straighter. 'Well, now,' he said. 'We need to start laying plans for the Mid-year's celebration. It'll be upon us before we know it. Here it is nearly May already.'  
  
'You're right,' Reginard said, seizing on the new topic whilst his mind was busy with other things.  
  
'What kind of shape is the track in?' the Thain asked. 'We want the ponies to have a good surface to run on, when race day comes...' 


	11. Changes

Thanks for your words of concern, Pansy! I actually find writing quite relaxing. So unless I'm at death's door and can't get up to go to the computer I will probably keep posting something daily... unless my muse moves permanently to Hawaii, of course...  
  
***  
  
Chapter 11. Changes  
  
A week later, Reginard knocked on the door just as Diamond and Pippin were finishing second breakfast.  
  
'O I thought you were the healers,' the Thain said, looking up in surprise.  
  
'No, they're taking the day off,' Regi answered.  
  
Pippin looked at him sharply. 'Are they giving it up, then?' he asked.  
  
Annoyed, the steward answered, 'No, but Healer Woodruff's become a grandmother for the third time over and I thought I'd give her the day off to enjoy it.'  
  
Diamond put her hand on Pippin's arm. 'You *are* making progress,' she said encouragingly. 'You know you are, you can do a lot more than wiggle your toes now.'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin said gravely.  
  
Reginard broke in. 'I thought you might like to work at your desk for a change,' he said. 'No reason why you couldn't, if we can get you to it. Besides, Sandy was telling me these rooms need a good cleaning out and he's tired of working around you.'  
  
A tap came on the door, and the servant poked his head in. 'Ready, Sir,' he said.  
  
'Right,' Regi answered. 'You take him from the other side, Sandy; we'll carry him between us.' He spoke now to the Thain. 'Woodruff says that as long as you keep the weight off that bone you'll be fine. But if you try to stand or walk by yourself, you'll undo all the good that's been done and have to spend another month abed.'  
  
'We can't have that, now,' Pippin said, amused that Regi still carried on the charade in front of Sandy. Surely this servant, of all in the Great Smials, knew the secret. But Sandy, if he did know, played along beautifully.  
  
'We'll be sure you don't put any weight on that leg, Sir,' he said.  
  
Diamond kissed him as she rose from the bed. 'I'll see you at elevenses, then,' she said.  
  
Regi and Sandy lifted him between them and carried him out of the room. After a few turns, he said, 'This isn't the way to the study.'  
  
'O yes,' said Reginard, 'Been meaning to talk to you about that. Your study needed a thorough clearing out, and things are a bit downside up there right now, so we've fixed up a temporary study for you until the paint dries.'  
  
'You've had a month to do the work, plus the two weeks we were at Buckland,' the Thain said mildly.  
  
'Ah, but the paint is that slow to dry, you would hardly believe it,' the steward answered, and Pippin decided to leave the subject alone.  
  
They brought him to one of the outward facing rooms of the Great Smials, with large windows set in the bank affording a panoramic view of Tuckborough.  
  
'Last I looked, this was the best parlour,' the Thain commented. He noted that most of the parlour furniture had been removed and it looked as if his entire study had been moved here, desk, bookshelves and all.  
  
'Ah, well, the Mistress decided she didn't like the wallpaper so she had the parlour changed to another room,' Regi said easily. They settled him at the desk, which was turned to afford a comfortable view from the window. 'Thank you, Sandy, that'll be all for now.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the servant bowed and took his leave.  
  
The Thain and his steward turned to matters of business, but more than once during a pause, the steward caught Pippin drinking in the view. At one point, the Thain interrupted his steward mid-sentence. 'Regi,' he said quietly.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
'Thank you.'  
  
The steward looked surprised. 'For what?' The Thain smiled and went back to business.  
  
Diamond entered with elevenses. 'I sneaked away whilst the babes were napping,' she said. 'Sandy has everything gloriously downside-up; I've not seen him so happy in weeks.'  
  
'I'm sure there won't be a speck of dust to be found, floor to ceiling, by evening,' Pippin replied.  
  
'Come, now, love, I want you to eat up everything on this plate,' Diamond said.  
  
'Are you going to feed it to me?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Yes, if I have to. What's good enough for Estella...' he stopped her by popping a stuffed mushroom into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, saying, 'No, that's not the way it's supposed to work!' Pippin laughed and took a mushroom for himself.  
  
'Stay, Regi, have something to eat. Diamond's brought enough for an army.'  
  
'All right,' the steward said, helping himself. 'So have you picked out a name for that boy, yet?'  
  
Diamond sighed in mock despair. 'I don't know,' she said. 'We may just end up naming him after his father or his grandfather, in desperation.'  
  
'Jotham is a good name,' Pippin maintained.  
  
Diamond gave him a push. 'Not *my* father!' she laughed.  
  
'Well, certainly not mine,' the Thain replied. 'One Paladin at the Great Smials was more than enough.'  
  
Regi laughed and nodded in agreement. 'And he was the second Paladin, for good measure.'  
  
'If there's to be a Paladin III, I'm not the one to perpetrate the deed,' Pippin said, taking a cheese puff.  
  
Diamond met Reginard's eyes and smiled. Her husband was eating with more appetite than she'd seen in a long while. 


	12. Whispers

Chapter 12. Whispers  
  
The hobbits washing dishes were so deep in their gossip that they didn't hear the Thain's hobbitservant come up behind them with the spent tea tray.  
  
'...such a shame. 'E's been the finest Thain Tookland's ever knew, I warrant, and it's too bad to lose 'im now.'  
  
At the soft throat clearing behind them, the little group stiffened and fell silent.  
  
Sandy stood grimly behind them until one turned tentatively to see if he was still there, then immediately began apologising, taking the tray from him. He did not leave, as they expected, but stood soberly until one turned back to say, 'Can I help you, Sir?'  
  
'What news d'you have of the Thain?' he asked quietly.  
  
'You... you'd know better'n us now,' another ventured timidly.  
  
Sandy nodded. 'That I would,' he said mildly. 'But I want to know what the talk is.'  
  
He fixed them all with a stern eye until one said uneasily, 'But surely ye know.' Sandy made no answer. The speaker dropped his eyes. 'They say 'e's lost the use of 'is legs,' he muttered. 'Hopeless crippled, they say.'  
  
Another spoke up. 'They say Reginard's running things already, that he's about to be tapped to step up.'  
  
'Where did you hear this?' Sandy demanded.  
  
'It's all the news,' one of them said. 'Everyone's saying so. You know how it is.' Unfortunately, Sandy did know, all too well. Tookland was fertile ground for rumour, once a seed was planted it quickly took root, sprouted, and formed seed that the wind scattered to the far ends of the land.  
  
He needed to nip it in the bud now, pull up the weeds by the roots and throw them on the burning pile. And it needed doing quickly, before the Tooklanders took it into their heads to force the Thain to step down because of some imagined lacking on his part.  
  
Sandy shook his head. 'The steward's just doing what he's always done,' he said, 'being steward. The Thain hasn't stopped running things. His is the voice behind every order, his hand holds every lead.' He was reassured to see them nodding. After all, it wasn't that different from the old Thain. Paladin had hardly left his rooms those last few years.  
  
'Now,' he said, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. They gathered closer. 'I need your help.' They nodded. 'Whenever you hear one of these scurrilous rumours, I want you to stamp it flat,' he said. 'This kind of talk is hurtful to the Thain, to Tookland, to the Shire...' he took the time to gaze into each pair of eyes, before concluding, 'to us all.'  
  
***  
  
'News from Buckland!' Ferdibrand sang as he entered the study, waving an envelope in one hand and a bulky package in the other.  
  
'Pony post?' Pippin asked.  
  
'O aye,' Ferdi said, 'Would they send birthday greetings any other way, these days? Especially with those ponies eating their heads off at Hall's and Smials' expense.'  
  
'What time did the rider leave Buckland?' Reginard asked.  
  
'Just after elevenses, he said.'  
  
'And it's after teatime. Not a record run, then,' the Thain commented.  
  
'They're a bit rusty. We'll have to start doing practice runs again,' Reginard said. 'Well, feed him and send him back again, and tell him to make better time on the return run or we'll want to know why.'  
  
Diamond had opened the letter and was reading it. 'Estella sends her best, and her birthday present to us is in the package.'  
  
'Looks as if it was awkward enough to carry,' Regi commented. 'Rider must've had to strap it to his back.'  
  
Ferdibrand carefully cut the cords and unwrapped the outer layer, then the inner layers to reveal a painting. He turned it to face the Thain and Mistress.  
  
'Oooo,' Diamond said, 'Just look at that! How that girl sits still long enough to make such a treasure...'  
  
Looking as if they were about to step from the canvas, Merry and Pippin stood on either side of Faramir, who was holding up a trout half as tall as himself. The trout stream flowed behind them, rendered so realistically they could almost hear the laughing of the waters dancing over the rocks, and the wind sighing through the trees. All three wore wide grins.  
  
'Where's Faramir? He's got to see this!' asked the Thain.  
  
'Out in the stables, helping with another foaling. For a wonder White Face didn't wait until the middle of the night to birth this time,' Ferdi answered.  
  
'Mayhap the lass is developing some sense,' Regi said.  
  
'I doubt it, I warrant she was just tired of carrying around all the extra weight,' Diamond said dryly. She remembered that feeling. Her attention was caught by her husband, who was staring fixedly at the picture. 'What is it, love?'  
  
He began to smile. 'I think I know what our lad's name is to be,' he said, softly. 'O aye.' 


	13. Naming Day

Here is a very short chapter (hope you find it short but sweet), no plot, little if any substance, literary "comfort food". Writing makes me feel better, but haven't the energy to tackle thorny issues today. Enjoy. (Thanks, Dana, for your help.)  
  
***  
  
13. Naming Day  
  
Reginard and Ferdibrand carried the Thain to the great room well before the celebration was due to start, settling him comfortably in a chair. 'We're getting good at this,' he commented.  
  
'Don't get too used to it,' Regi grunted. 'As soon as you're back on your feet this special treatment is going to stop.'  
  
Diamond came in, two servants behind her carrying the sleeping babes nestled in their baskets. She stooped to kiss her husband, whispering, 'They're clean, they're fed, with any luck they'll sleep through it all.'  
  
'Miss the celebration?' he chuckled. 'What a hard-hearted mum you are!' Her arms circled him with a quick hug, and then she was standing beside his chair as Sandy opened the doors to admit the friends and relations, bearing their gifts.  
  
When all were gathered around, and the oohing and ahhing at the sight of the sweetly sleeping babes had subsided, he raised his voice to speak the traditional words.  
  
'It has been a month and a day since these new hobbits graced the Shire with their presence,' he said, 'and we gather now to welcome them to the family and to write their names in the book.' Diamond looked down at him, and he met her eye with a grin. He still had not told her what the boy babe's name would be, only that he thought she'd be in perfect agreement when she heard it.  
  
'You picked out the name for the lass,' he had maintained. ' 'Tis only fair that I pick out the name for the lad, and it will be Tookish enough for the son of the Thain, trust me on this.'  
  
There was a soft murmur of "welcome", and then Faramir stepped forward, carrying the two flutes he had so laboriously carved. 'Welcome to the family,' he said. 'I give the gift of music, that their hearts may be ever light.' He lay the flutes between the baskets with their slumbering inhabitants.  
  
Reginard came forward with a loaf of bread. 'Welcome to the family,' he repeated the greeting. 'I bring bread, that they may never know hunger.'  
  
One by one the relations and friends stepped up with their greeting and their gifts, wine for joy, flowers for beauty, honey that life might be ever sweet, oil that they might live off the fat of the land, and more. Many of the gifts were clever, and laughter was sprinkled amongst the more serious presents.  
  
Melilot Brandybuck stepped forward with a small bowl filled with white crystals. 'Salt,' he said, after his greeting, a twinkle in his eye. 'That they would never be spoiled.'  
  
After the last gift was given, Reginard stepped forward again with a sparkling crystal glass filled with water. 'Welcome to the family,' he repeated. 'I bring water, that they may never know thirst, or drought, that the rain that falls into their lives may be ever sweet and refreshing, that all their sorrows may be quickly washed away.'  
  
He stepped forward as Diamond picked up the tiny girl-babe and settled her in Pippin's lap. Pippin dipped his thumb into the water, stroked it gently over the babe's forehead, kissed the wet spot tenderly. 'Welcome to the family, my lass,' he murmured. She stirred slightly in her sleep, and he held her up. 'We welcome Forget-me-not!' There was a soft chorus of assent, and he handed her back to Diamond, receiving the boy-babe in return. Again he blessed the child with the water, murmured his welcome, and as he held the child up the eyes opened wide in the tiny face as if to receive the greetings of all the well wishers there, or perhaps in curiosity to find out what his name might be. Pippin was aware that there was not a sound in the great room, he could see that Diamond was holding her breath. He smiled widely and said clearly, 'We welcome... Merigrin!' There was a cheer and a chorus of welcome, and the musicians struck up the first tune, with many more to come. 


	14. Tremours

Author's Note: Thanks to alert reader Pippinfan for finding the elusive remaining mentions of "Meliloc" in this chapter.  
  
**Chapter 14. Tremours**  
  
Meliloc Brandybuck had come out to the stables in search of the pony post rider on duty. As he passed Socks' stall, his attention was caught by the fact that the pony did not charge the half-door as usual, nodding greetings and whickering demands for a treat. Worried that the Thain's favourite might be sickening of something, he stepped up to the door to investigate. The pony's calm, wise-eyed gaze met his, and he saw that Socks was carefully standing over a small huddled form in the middle of his stall. A muffled sniffle was heard from the miserable ball of young hobbit.  
  
'Farry? Faramir?' he said, opening the half door and stepping in. He patted Socks' neck and bent down. 'Faramir, are you hurt?'  
  
'No,' came the muffled reply.  
  
Meliloc put out a gentle hand to unbury the face from the arms. 'Come, Faramir,' he said. 'Poor Socks is afraid to stir foot for fear of stepping upon you, and he cannot eat his breakfast.' He noted the bloody and bruised knuckles and the beautiful shiner blooming over the right eye. Wincing in sympathy, he helped the lad up, saying, 'Come with me.'  
  
Meliloc led him to the trough of freshly drawn water, half filling a handy bucket and taking up a cloth from the pile of clean grooming cloths. He wet the cloth, folded it, placed it against the swelling eye. 'Here, soak your hands in the bucket,' he said. 'Now, tell me what happened.'  
  
The lad shook his head.  
  
'Come, lad,' Meliloc urged. 'I'm a Brandybuck, the secret's safe with me. D'you think I'd tell anything to a Took?'  
  
Faramir smiled in spite of himself.  
  
'There's a lad,' Meliloc said. 'Tell me what the problem is.'  
  
'Romy... one of the town lads...' Meliloc nodded encouraging. 'He said that my Da's a hopeless cripple. He said that a cripple can't be Thain.'  
  
Meliloc managed to keep his voice calm and even. 'I hope you made him eat his words.'  
  
Faramir raised his chin defiantly. 'I did,' he said. He smiled grimly. 'I bloodied his nose for him. Think I broke it.'  
  
'Good lad,' Meliloc said. 'Listen to me, now,' he said urgently. Faramir fixed his good eye on Meliloc's face. 'Your Da's legs aren't what makes him Thain,' he said. 'You know that. And your Granda' governed from his bed that whole last year, before your Da became Thain.' The lad nodded.  
  
Meliloc rose, leaving a hand on the lad's shoulders. 'You go to the kitchen, get a bit of beefsteak for your eye,' he said. Faramir nodded. 'And stay out of your parents' way until I've talked with them... say, after teatime.' Faramir nodded again, and Meliloc walked back to the Smials in deep thought.  
  
***  
  
Pippin's eye was caught by the sight of a pony cantering out of the yard. 'Pony post going out?' he asked.  
  
Reginard looked up, 'O aye,' he answered. 'Meliloc's sending news of Pervinca's babe off to the Hall. The newest Brandybuck was born this morning.' He smiled. 'Seems you're an uncle.'  
  
'What is it?' the Thain asked.  
  
'A lass, fine strong child, good lungs, I hear.'  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I hope she runs Pervinca as ragged as my sister did our parents,' he said. He frowned again. 'Did you read Meliloc's message?'  
  
The steward shook his head. 'No, he'd sealed it. It's just personal business, after all.' He could see the Thain was unsatisfied, but the message was gone now and the damage, if any, was done. Meliloc had been in Tookland nearly a year, surely he understood the value of discretion by now.  
  
***  
  
The lone Brandybuck himself came, bearing a tray of elevenses to the Thain's study, receiving congratulations with a beaming smile.  
  
'Prettiest lass I've ever seen,' he said, 'takes after her mother rather than me, I'm happy to say.'  
  
'What's her name to be, then?' Ferdibrand asked, taking a sandwich from the tray.  
  
'I understood that there was no rush here in the Smials to pick out a name. We're weighing the matter carefully,' Meliloc answered with a grin.  
  
'Can't agree on a name, more likely,' Reginard snorted.  
  
Meliloc turned an innocent gaze on him. 'My wife and I are in perfect harmony,' he said.  
  
'O aye, so long as you dance to her tune,' Regi said. 'She's been spoiled all her life. Someone ought to have given her a gift of salt on *her* naming day.'  
  
'That's my lady wife you're talking about,' Meliloc said quietly, and at a look from the Thain, Reginard dropped the subject.  
  
'What brings you from your wife's side on this happy day?' Pippin asked, taking a stuffed egg and devouring it neatly in two bites.  
  
'Just thought I ought to give you a warning,' the Brandybuck said. 'I ran across Faramir earlier on. He'd been fighting.'  
  
'Ah,' the Thain nodded. 'Did he win?'  
  
Meliloc smiled. 'Sounds as if he gave as good as he got. Just thought you'd like to know ahead of time, he's got the most beautiful shiner you've ever seen.'  
  
The Thain nodded, sipping at his tea, then wiping his hands to pick up a paper from his desk. 'Right. I'll warn Diamond so it's not a shock to her, remind her not to fuss over the lad.' He looked down at the paper, then up at Meliloc. 'Any idea what the fight was about?'  
  
'O, a typical disagreement amongst the lads, I don't suppose,' Meliloc said casually. To his relief, the Thain did not pursue the matter. 'Well, then, I must get back to my lovely wife.'  
  
As he was exiting the study, he heard the Thain mutter, 'Better you than me...'  
  
***  
  
Estella entered the Master's study to find Merry frowning over a paper at his desk.  
  
'I heard the pony post came,' she said.  
  
'Yes, Meliloc's first was born, a fine strong lass.'  
  
'So why the frown?' Estella asked, coming behind her husband to rub his shoulders and read the note he held. 'Why does he have to write so small?'  
  
'Lots of news to tell, I don't wonder,' Merry said. 'Looks as if he's bottled himself up for weeks, and only managed to burst out now.' He sighed. 'You know how the Tooks are. He probably didn't dare send anything out until he had a legitimate reason to write.'  
  
'I've never heard you speak ill of Pippin!' Estella said, shocked.  
  
'He's a Took, surrounded by Tooks, for all he was raised by Brandybucks,' Merry said. He handed the note to Estella and rubbed his eyes.  
  
Estella quickly scanned the contents, with a sharp exclamation. 'Lost the use of his legs!' she said, 'and he never sent word.'  
  
'Just like him,' Merry said. 'He might send word if he were dying, but then again, we might only find out when the invitation to the memorial arrived.'  
  
'Are you going to Tookland?' Estella asked.  
  
Merry shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'I wouldn't be welcome. Pippin has to fight his own battles, I can't be running over to Tuckborough every time trouble rears its head. He knows it as well as I do. He's Thain, and I'm merely Master of Buckland.'  
  
'You won't go?' Estella said, more softly, hands resting still on his shoulders.  
  
Merry reached for her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. 'I'll drop everything to go the minute he sends for me, you know that,' he said. Her only answer was a sigh.


	15. Halting Steps

Chapter 15. Halting Steps  
  
The Thain was never at his best after the healers were through with him. The process of exercising and stretching the muscles in the injured leg was exhausting, if not to say frustrating. They would leave him alone for a time to recover, then Diamond would bring a tray with second breakfast, talking quietly, drawing him out, bringing him to himself again.  
  
On the last day of April, Pippin was more subdued than usual. He picked at the food and pushed it away, sipping instead at his tea.  
  
'You cannot live on tea alone, love,' Diamond coaxed.  
  
'I had a big breakfast,' he said untruthfully. He sighed. 'This isn't working, Diamond. It's been five weeks. If it were a broken leg, I'd be getting up in a week's time, but there seems no end in sight to this.'  
  
'You're making progress,' she argued.  
  
'It's slow,' he said, but she broke in with a laugh.  
  
'You are always so impatient, it's a great failing of yours.'  
  
He shook his head. 'No, Diamond, we have to face facts.'  
  
'And what are the facts?' she asked more quietly.  
  
'How can I lead the people when I cannot even stand? How can I know what is going on in Tookland, much less the Shire when I'm stuck in a chair all day, dependent upon others' reports to make my decisions? How do I know I'm not just hearing what someone thinks I ought to hear? A decision is only as good as the information it's based on.' He shook his head in frustration.  
  
'What are you saying?' Diamond asked slowly.  
  
'I shall step down as Thain,' he said soberly, 'Appoint Reginard to the office, I suppose. He's a good head on his shoulders and he's firm, the Tooks will follow him.'  
  
Diamond gasped, 'Pippin!'  
  
He turned his head to meet her gaze. 'I've thought this through, love. The Tooks will follow a strong leader.' He shook his head. 'Not a helpless cripple.'  
  
Diamond said slowly, 'I think you unfairly judge your people, Thain,' she used the title deliberately, 'and you underestimate yourself.'  
  
Reginard spoke from the doorway. 'I'm glad to hear you have such confidence in me, cousin.' He entered and closed the door behind him. 'But you're the finest Thain the Shire has had in many years. You cannot assume that I would simply step up to fill your place should you step down.'  
  
'You ran things after Paladin died,' Pippin said quietly.  
  
'I was a caretaker. I took care. Things just kept going as they had been going, nothing changed, nothing grew.' Reginard shook his head in wonder. 'Are you blind as well as crippled, cousin?' he said bluntly. 'Thain Paladin ruled with an iron fist, and look at the result. Tookland stayed within its borders, provincial, narrow-minded, mean-spirited, insular. When the Troubles came we kept the ruffians out, o aye, but did we ever stray beyond our borders to help the rest of the Shire?'  
  
The Thain was silent. Reginald held out his hands in a pleading gesture. 'Don't you see, cousin? Since you've come, my eyes have been opened. I see that being a Took is not the be-all and end-all of things, that other hobbits can have ideas of value, that there is a world out there, beyond the borders of Tookland. Your father ruled with an iron fist, but you have ruled with an open hand, and Tookland has prospered.'  
  
Pippin was silent for so long that Reginard feared he had not been able to reach him. Then he said slowly, 'So how do we convince the Tooks?'  
  
'What do you mean?' Reginard asked.  
  
'Sandy's told me of the rumours, what the people are saying. They expect me to step down.'  
  
'When have you ever done what was expected of you, cousin?' Reginard said in exasperation.  
  
'How do I lead if they won't follow?' Pippin asked reasonably.  
  
'How will they follow if you won't lead?' Reginard countered. 'Listen, cousin, in one thing you are right.' Diamond waited to hear what he would say next. 'You've hidden in the Smials long enough.'  
  
'So you mean to carry me about Tookland?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Hah. Do you really think I would?' Regi answered.  
  
'Then what?' the Thain said. 'I don't understand.'  
  
Reginard shook his head. 'You can be so thick sometimes,' he said under his breath, then looked the Thain in the eyes. 'Hang the healers and their careful but nonexistent progress,' he said. 'I've been watching. They've bought their own lie, treating you as if your leg's broken, never letting you put weight on't. How do they expect it to bear a load?'  
  
He crossed the room, sat down next to his cousin. 'Here, I want to try something. Put your arm around my shoulders.'  
  
Pippin gave a glance at Diamond. 'Really,' he said, 'in front of my wife?'  
  
Regi snorted. 'All right, now we're going to stand up.' He suited action to word.  
  
'All right,' Pippin said. 'We're standing. Now what?'  
  
'Diamond, take his other side,' Regi said. Hardly daring to breathe, Diamond complied.  
  
'Now, cousin, I know you can move that leg, I've seen you do it enough times for those blasted healers. Move the leg. Take a step.' The Thain, face tight with concentration, slid his right foot forward.  
  
'Good,' the steward said. 'Now lean on us and take a step with the other leg.' Pippin complied, and a smile broke out on his face.  
  
'I'm walking,' he said softly.  
  
'Of course you're walking,' Regi affirmed. 'I never had any doubt that you would if you gave it half a chance.'  
  
'Are you sure you want to be a steward? You might do better as a healer,' Pippin said.  
  
'Don't tempt me,' Regi answered. 'Surely dealing with recalcitrant patients would be much easier than dealing with a Thain.'  
  
After a few more steps, the steward eased the Thain back to the bed. 'I think that's enough for one day,' he said.  
  
'Thank you,' Diamond said to him.  
  
'I don't know why you're thanking me,' Regi answered. 'The Thain did all the hard part.'  
  
Pippin sat down with a sigh. 'Well, that's one load off my mind,' he said. 'Though I was prepared to be stuck in a chair forever.'  
  
Regi nodded. 'That was part of your problem, cousin,' he said soberly. 'Though I beg to argue with you that the people wouldn't follow you even were you legless. It's not your legs that make you Thain.'  
  
Pippin looked up. 'Since you're so good at solving problems, Regi, what are we going to do about the rumours that people are spreading? It sounds as if a wholesale panic is about to start.'  
  
'Well, now,' the steward said, 'as a matter of fact, I've been giving it some thought...' 


	16. A Raft of Letters

Chapter 16. A Raft of Letters  
  
'Pony post again?' Estella said. 'That's three weeks in a row.' She ticked off on her fingers. 'The naming day news--such lovely names, Merigrin, wonder how they ever came up with that? And Forget-me-not; second, Melilot's news, and now what?' she asked.  
  
'We'll find out, I'm sure,' Merry said evenly, and his wife could tell he was still unsettled over Melilot's news and hurt, even angered, at Pippin's silence.  
  
The messenger was shown into the study and Merry greeted him, then asked, 'What time did you leave?'  
  
'Just after elevenses,' the hobbit answered.  
  
'Not quite teatime...' Merry said. 'Your time is improving.'  
  
'Thank you, Sir,' the messenger said, handing over the saddlebags. 'We're finally getting those innkeepers trained to keep a pony ready to go.'  
  
'Good,' the Master of Buckland said. 'we're paying them enough for it.' He fumbled with the strap, saying, 'Go on down to the kitchen, get a bite to eat, then check back with me for any messages going back.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the messenger said, bowed, and left. Merry got the saddlebags open.  
  
'Let's see... a note from the Thain, official seal and all, now aren't we fancy? Another from the Steward, and one from Diamond to you, Estella.'  
  
'Lovely.' Estella came forward with a smile to receive her treasure, immediately seeking a comfortable chair to sit and devour the contents.  
  
Merry sat down at his desk again, reading first Pippin's note, passing it to his steward Berilac, then opening and perusing Reginard's missive.  
  
He laid down the second letter with a deliberateness that caught Estella's attention.  
  
'What is it, beloved?' she asked. Berilac quietly picked up the second letter and began to read.  
  
'Those Tooks,' he said. 'Those... obstinate, bullheaded, mulish, hardheaded... obstreperous, pigheaded, stiff-necked, headstrong,' he gathered steam as he continued, 'stubborn, unreasonable, inflexible, rigid, recalcitrant...' he ran out of suitable words,' ...Tooks!' He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
'Feel better?' Estella asked softly.  
  
'Yes!'  
  
'You left off "intransigent" and "short-sighted",' Berilac said, laying down Reginard's note. 'Otherwise, I'd say you have them pegged.'  
  
'What is it?' Estella asked.  
  
'Pippin is the best Thain the Shire has had in years, and they want him to step down,' Merry said in frustration. 'What is wrong with these people?'  
  
'They're Tooks,' Berilac said quietly. 'They lived too long under Thain Paladin, you cannot blame them completely, cousin.'  
  
'What exactly do those letters say?' Estella asked.  
  
Merry picked up the Thain's letter again. 'Pippin has been approached by a delegation of Tooklanders. They've asked him to step down as Thain, in view of his ... infirmity ... and the likelihood that he will lose touch with the needs of Tookland. Of course, they didn't say it in so many words; they couched it in kind and thoughtful concern for him and his family "during this difficult time".'  
  
'Hah,' was Berilac's comment.  
  
'And does Reginard want him to step down? He'd be next in line to be tapped as Thain,' Estella said. 'Faramir's too young.'  
  
'No,' Merry said slowly. 'He writes to ask the Master of Buckland to throw his support behind Thain Peregrin.'  
  
'Does he offer any suggestions?' Estella asked.  
  
'No, he leaves it to my discretion,' Merry answered. 'And almost as an afterthought, he invites us to the annual Tookland pony races on the first of June.'  
  
'Did Pippin invite you?' Estella asked.  
  
Merry gave her a pained look. 'No,' he said quietly. 'Don't you see, my love, if he asks me to come, it'll be seen as the younger cousin needing rescued by the older cousin once again. That would undermine his position even more.'  
  
'Well, so he didn't write to ask you to come pull his chestnuts out of the fire,' Estella said. 'But you ought to know, Diamond also writes to invite us to the Smials for a visit, to see the twins. She says it would be nice if we came for the pony races and stayed through Lithe.'  
  
'Nearly all of Tookland will be at the pony races,' Berilac said quietly. Merry tapped his fingers on the desk; the others sat quietly to let him think.  
  
'Do you know, Estella,' he said at last, beginning to grin, 'I think you might write back to Diamond, taking her up on her kind offer, and tell her your husband might come if he can get the time away.'  
  
'Certainly, my beloved,' Estella said obediently. 'I do hope that you can find the time. I understand the pony races will be quite exciting this year.' 


	17. Laying Plans

17. Making Plans  
  
Pippin continued to work daily with the healers, exercising and strengthening the bad leg. Each day, supported between Reginard and Ferdibrand, the Thain was able to walk a few steps further along the way from bedroom to study. When he tired and began to sag against them, they would link arms to form a chair and carry him the rest of the way, joking and laughing all the way.  
  
Healer Woodruff had been quite put out with him, though Reginard claimed full responsibility. She was grim and thin-lipped for a week after the first experiment, and only grudgingly admitted that Reginard had been right in this instance.  
  
'I don't know why you don't put him in to replace me as healer,' she grumbled. 'You listen more to him than you do to me.'  
  
'He told me I couldn't pay him enough to be a healer,' the Thain commented equably.  
  
'No, you couldn't pay me enough to be *your* healer,' the steward corrected.  
  
'Right!' Woodruff snapped. Her expression softened as she followed them down the corridor after the therapy session. Of course, since she was behind them, they couldn't see her face. His progress was still slow, but one couldn't deny that the Thain was progessing. They made it further than the previous day, before the leg collapsed and refused to be moved.  
  
'Up we go,' Ferdibrand called out. He made a great show of moaning as he and Regi lifted Pippin between them. 'Hoi, cousin, you're going to have to stop letting your wife stuff you the way she does, that, or we'll have to round up two more hobbits to help get you to your desk!'  
  
'I'm going to tell the kitchen to stop making seedcake,' Regi warned.  
  
'Take away my seedcake! Never!' the Thain maintained. 'I'll walk the whole way first!'  
  
'I'd like to see you try,' Ferdi baited him.  
  
'You just watch...' the Thain said, as they turned the corner and Woodruff lost sight of them. She shook her head, smiling. It was good to hear the Thain laugh again.  
  
***  
  
Once settled in his chair, Pippin set immediately to business. He had a sense of urgency as the first of June approached, the deadline by which he must satisfy the delegation of Tooklanders as to his adequacy as Thain. If he were forced out, there was much to be done before leaving the whole weight on Regi's shoulders. And if Regi remained firm in his resolve not to step up as Thain, then who? How had his father maintained his position after becoming bedridden, he wondered. Sheer force of personality, he supposed.  
  
He didn't care enough about the Thainship to grasp it the way his father had. It was a challenge, yes, and he felt the responsibility keenly. And, he must admit to himself, he hoped he might make a difference. In truth, he'd enjoyed the last six, no, seven years, now. He wasn't sure what he'd do with himself if he stepped down from his office. He wasn't the type to retire and go fishing the rest of his life. There wasn't much call for knights of Gondor with gimpy legs, though.  
  
As if guessing his thoughts, Ferdibrand said, 'Well, we could always switch places, you know.'  
  
'What's that?' Pippin asked.  
  
'I could be Thain, you could be chancellor. The pay is right.'  
  
'We neither of us draws a salary,' Pippin said dryly.  
  
'Exactly! Much less paperwork to worry about,' Ferdibrand said smoothly.  
  
'Only one problem I can see,' Reginard said.  
  
'What's that?'  
  
'The people would never take you on as Thain, Ferdi, your reputation precedes you.'  
  
'You think...? I figured they'd have forgotten all about that by now.'  
  
'Tooks have a long memory, lad,' Regi said, looking at him from under his eyebrows. 'A long memory, indeed.'  
  
The Thain laughed. 'I can attest to that,' he said. 'I was there, remember, and they still haven't forgiven *me*, either!'  
  
***  
  
Mayor Samwise read the letter from the Steward at Great Smials through again. Rose noticed the furrow on his brow as she freshened his tea.  
  
'What is it, Sam?' she asked. 'Children! Finish clearing the table and wash up now!'  
  
'Yes, Mum!' they caroled together, and soon the table was cleared of all but the Mayor's teacup, a new cloth deftly laid, and cheerful sounds of washing up came from the kitchen.  
  
'What's the news from Tuckborough?' Rose asked as she settled again with a bit of mending.  
  
'They request the presence of the Mayor of the Shire to open the annual pony races on the first of June.'  
  
'Don't you have to speak at the Strawberry Festival in Southfarthing on that date?' Rose asked, eyes on her needle.  
  
'Yes,' Sam said slowly. 'But a letter also came from Buckland today...' he took a folded paper from his pocket and slid it over to Rose.  
  
She put down her sewing to pick it up, glad that Mr Frodo had taken it into his head to insist that she learn to read, glanced quickly through the contents, her eyebrows rising.  
  
'Well, that's a pickle, and no mistake!' she said, sliding the paper back to Sam, who folded it and put it securely back into an inner pocket. 'So the Master of Buckland plans to attend the pony races at Tuckborough...'  
  
'His family does. He'll come if he can find the time,' Samwise corrected.  
  
Head bent to her sewing, she looked up at him through her eyelashes. 'Now, Sam,' she began.  
  
'You know what I mean, Rosie lass,' Sam said. 'He cannot come in his official capacity, as if he's been invited to pull Mr Pippin's wagon out of a ditch.'  
  
'Very well, then, we'll take the official line,' she said, 'but you know he'll be there.'  
  
'Yes,' Sam said, nodding slowly. 'And so will we.'  
  
'You'll decline the Strawberry Festival? They'll be put out.'  
  
'No doubt,' Sam said calmly. 'There was a Strawberry Festival last year, and there'll be another next year, and they don't really need the Mayor there to cut the ribbon... besides, I hear the annual Tookland pony races ought to be quite exciting this year.'  
  
Rose laughed. 'We ought to encourage half the hobbits of Hobbiton to attend, then.'  
  
'Yes,' Sam agreed, 'and all of Bywater, as well.' 


	18. Signs of Life

Chapter 18. Signs of Life  
  
Halfway through May, the Thain walked the entire distance from bed to study.  
  
'Well now,' his steward said, 'You've set the record for endurance. We'll have to work on speed, next.'  
  
'O aye,' the Thain gasped, raising a trembling hand to wipe his face.  
  
Reginard frowned. 'Methinks we need to make haste a bit more slowly.'  
  
'What?' Pippin said weakly. 'And give up this pleasant exercise?'  
  
'I didn't say we'd give up the morning stroll, cousin,' was Regi's answer. 'Just that we wouldn't try to walk halfway to Buckland in a day.'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin repeated. He was beginning to catch his breath, and Reginard and Ferdibrand shared a look of relief over his head.  
  
The Thain pulled a stack of papers over and got down to business. 'You're taking your job as chancellor much too seriously,' he said to Ferdi. 'You must be going through ink by the barrelful, and I'd like to know how many trees gave their lives to sustain this burst of paperwork?'  
  
'O, I thought you wanted me to earn my salary,' the chancellor said mildly, smiling at the Thain's sharp look. 'Every one of those papers means something, Pippin.'  
  
'That's what I'm afraid of,' the Thain said, drawing the top paper off the pile.  
  
'He's right,' Regi put in unexpectedly. 'Under the old Thain you wouldn't believe the piles of unnecessary paperwork I sweated through.'  
  
Pippin shot him a wry look. 'O yes, I would,' he maintained. 'I sweated through it as well.'  
  
'Yes, when you weren't off to Buckland to visit those ne'er-do-well Brandybucks, or hiking through strange foreign parts in the company of odd folk.' Reginard shook a finger at him. 'You're not going to get off so easily this time, cousin. We've finally got things running smoothly and you are going to stick around to run them, if we have to tie you to that chair!'  
  
'I hope it won't come to that,' the Thain said mildly, writing several comments on the paper he held and taking the next from the stack. Steward and Chancellor exchanged another glance. They were in complete agreement with him.  
  
Some time later, he put the last paper aside with a sigh. 'There, that ought to keep you busy awhile,' he said.  
  
'At least until tomorrow,' the steward answered.  
  
Pippin stretched. 'We've worked right through elevenses. Is the tea still warm?'  
  
Ferdi felt the pot under its cosy. 'Barely,' he said. 'Sorry, should have paid more attention.'  
  
'Ah well, we got a lot accomplished,' the Thain said, picking up a sandwich only to put it down again.  
  
'That will be a grand comfort to the mourners at my memorial after your wife gets through with me,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'I'll deliver a touching eulogy, don't worry, cousin,' Pippin said.  
  
'Yes, if you haven't wasted away from hunger,' Ferdi returned acidly. 'You eat less than any hobbit I know.'  
  
'Aye, but at least I burn it all off,' Pippin said equably. He looked up at his wife's entrance with a smile. 'Diamond!'  
  
'Don't "Diamond" me,' she said grimly. 'You've been letting them work your fingers to the bone again, no food, no rest.'  
  
'O aye,' the Thain sighed with a martyred look. 'They drive me worse than a company of orcs.'  
  
'Well, 'tis a good thing the cooks have roasted a lamb just the way you like it, with mint sauce and all.'  
  
'Poor lamb,' Pippin muttered.  
  
Regi laughed. 'It gave its life in a good cause, cousin.' He reached for a morsel, to have his hand slapped away by the Thain's irate wife.  
  
'Go get your own,' she said sternly. 'This is for my husband, before he wastes away to skin and bone.'  
  
'All that?' Pippin said in dismay.  
  
'Aye,' Diamond said firmly.  
  
The Thain drew a deep breath, then smiled winningly at his wife. 'Thank you, my love,' he said. 'I'll have Regi bring the tray down later.'  
  
'O no,' she shook her head. 'I am going to take it down myself, after I watch you eat every bite.' She locked gazes with her husband until he dropped his eyes and picked up his fork.  
  
***  
  
About a week later, after tea was finished, Regi stretched and flexed his shoulders, nodding to Ferdi, who left the study on some errand. 'A good day's work,' the steward said. 'How about a break?'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin answered. 'We could hike across country to the Green Dragon for a pint and be back in time for late supper.'  
  
'Some fresh air would do me a world of good,' Regi said cryptically. Sandy had entered the study and now he and the steward moved to either side of the Thain. 'I think you've done enough walking for this day; how about a ride?'  
  
'Get up there, old pony,' Pippin said, and they lifted him from the chair.  
  
'Where are we going?' he asked as they carried him to the main entrance of the Great Smials.  
  
'Out,' the steward said succinctly.  
  
'I can see that,' Pippin said. 'Want to give me a clue?'  
  
'You'll figure it out,' Regi said, 'given enough time.'  
  
Pippin glanced over at Sandy, who wore a dignified smile. They took him to the stables, where Ferdi was standing with three saddled ponies.  
  
'A ride?' Pippin asked in wonder.  
  
'Looks that way, doesn't it?' Regi grunted. 'Nothing wrong with pony's legs, after all.'  
  
They set him down before Socks, and Sandy slipped the Thain a carrot. 'Wouldn't want him to think you forgot,' the servant said somberly.  
  
'No, I'd hate to throw him into a snit just when we're about to have some fun,' the Thain returned, and offered the carrot to the pony, stroking the velvet nose as the treat was graciously accepted. 'Whew, that's a relief,' he said. 'Looks as if we might be on speaking terms again.'  
  
Regi and Sandy supported him over to the pony's side. 'All right, get your foot into the stirrup,' Regi said. They held him steady and Sandy guided the left foot into place, then they made sure he had a firm grip on the saddle before they turned him loose.  
  
'Hop up, now,' Regi said encouragingly, and Pippin soon found himself standing in the stirrup.  
  
'Can you get your leg over?'  
  
Pippin tried but had to shake his head.  
  
'Ah, well, that'll come in time,' the steward said, unruffled. He eased Pippin's right leg over the pony's back, and Pippin was sitting in the saddle. He was able to wriggle the toes of his right foot into the stirrup and sat, tired but triumphant. Ferdi and Regi swung into their own saddles and they were off.  
  
'You needn't hover so close,' the Thain said to the two who rode on either side of him. 'I'm fine!' For the first time in weeks he was telling the absolute truth.  
  
'Socks is a bit out of practice,' Ferdi said. 'We just want to reassure him, is all.' The Thain let it go, choosing instead to enjoy the sunshine, the breeze on his face, the shouts and hands raised in greeting.  
  
'That'll give them something to gossip about over supper tonight,' Ferdi said softly.  
  
'O aye,' Regi snorted. 'Guess the Thain isn't quite dead, yet.'  
  
'Not quite,' Pippin agreed. 


	19. Tying a Knot

19. Tying a Knot  
  
On the last day of May, Reginard did not appear as usual immediately after the Thain finished second breakfast.  
  
'Do you want me to go and look for him, love?' Diamond said, brushing his forehead with her lips as she rose.  
  
'No, I'm sure he has more important things to do than dance attendance on the Thain. What, I cannot imagine. But they'd have to be very important.'  
  
'Very,' Diamond said. 'I'll see you for elevenses. My admiring subjects await me,' as the cries of two hungry babes wafted through the Thain's private apartments.  
  
Pippin seized her hand and kissed it before releasing her. 'My queen,' he said.  
  
'Ho, varlet, I shall greet thee anonce,' she answered.  
  
'What does that mean, exactly?'  
  
'I'm not sure but it trips marvelously from the tongue,' she said, and was rewarded with his laughter.  
  
Ferdibrand breezed in. 'Good morning, cousin!' he said cheerily.  
  
'It might be,' Pippin answered cautiously. 'Where's Regi?'  
  
'O, he said to start without him. He thinks you take him for granted,' Ferdi said.  
  
Pippin snorted indignantly. 'Of course I take him for granted! And I intend to keep on doing so!'  
  
'Well, you'll have to take him for granted at a distance for a bit this morning; he had some details to check on,' Ferdibrand answered. 'Will I do?'  
  
'Indeed you won't do,' the Thain snapped. 'That's why he's steward and you're only chancellor!'  
  
'Ah, but I'm working my way up,' Ferdi said. 'I'm to be his steward when he steps up to be Thain, you know.'  
  
'I had suspected as much.'  
  
Ferdibrand took Pippin's arm and helped him upright. 'See, we don't need a steward. We can run the Shire just fine between ourselves.' He positioned his shoulder under Pippin's armpit. 'Convenient, your being so tall,' he muttered. They managed the few steps to the door, but it was harder work than the Thain was used to. 'You're getting better, but you really do need a prop on the other side,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'O you noticed that,' the Thain muttered, thinking of the long haul to his study.  
  
'Perhaps this'll do,' Ferdi said, reaching behind the door to bring out an ornately carved walking stick. Pippin nearly lost his balance as his cousin thrust the head of the stick into his hand; he automatically shoved the stick under him and caught his weight upon it.  
  
'That's better,' he murmured. 'What is this?'  
  
'O a little something Regi and I cooked up,' Ferdibrand said casually.  
  
'A walking stick?' They began the shuffling progress towards the study, a little more slowly than usual, but it was forward progress, at least.  
  
'Not just a walking stick, cousin.'  
  
'O?' Pippin asked mildly.  
  
'No, since troubles seem to follow you like gnats we thought you could use an all-purpose Trouble Stick.'  
  
'Tell me what you do with a trouble stick, besides leaning upon it,' the Thain encouraged.  
  
'Well, it'll float, being carved from wood, so if you get thrown into a flood it'll bear you up until you can reach shore...'  
  
'I can see where that might come in handy.'  
  
'You can fend off the roof of a burning building as it comes down on you.'  
  
'Yes?'  
  
'If a pony tries to run away, just give him a good clobber between the ears, that'll drop him in his tracks.'  
  
'Ah.'  
  
'And if you're caught on a mountainside in a blizzard you can burn it for warmth; it'll also make a fine torch if you get stuck in a cave-in without a light.'  
  
'You seem to have thought of everything.'  
  
'O aye,' Ferdibrand nodded. 'Plus the waylaying orcs and ruffians, now, just threaten them with the Stick...'  
  
'And they'll be so overcome with laughter I shall be able to make my hobbling escape,' the Thain nodded.  
  
'You can pry up a fallen coach with it, 'tis that sturdy,' Ferdibrand continued.  
  
'But is it any good at fending off a wife with a tray of food?'  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'Nay, I do not think it would work for that.'  
  
The Thain sighed. 'Pity,' he said. 'I thought it was just about perfect up until now.'  
  
Their shuffling progress had come to a stop and he stood breathing hard, head drooping. Reginard quietly came up behind them, slipping his head beneath the Thain's arm, straightening to take his weight. The stick hung from its leather loop about Pippin's wrist, unneeded at the moment, but ready to take his weight again at need.  
  
'That's a bit of progress,' the tardy steward said. 'By next year you'll be walking with just the stick.'  
  
'By next year...' Pippin said softly. 'I don't have a year, cousin. The pony races are tomorrow.' He sighed. 'I seem to be running out of rope.'  
  
'Then tie a knot, and hang on tight to the end,' Regi said.  
  
The Thain looked at him wearily. 'You're late,' he said. 'I ought to fire you.'  
  
The steward chuckled. 'You won't get rid of me quite that easily, Thain.'  
  
'O no?'  
  
'No. I'm like one of those pesty burrs that clings to your cloak; you can't shake me off, you cannot brush me away, and when you try to pluck me out I'll sting your fingers but good.'  
  
Pippin sighed. 'Looks as if I'm stuck with you, then.'  
  
'It does look that way,' Regi said agreeably. 


	20. Thain of the Shire

20. Thain of the Shire  
  
Instead of bringing a tray with their dinners to the study, Diamond came bearing only a smile. 'Are you hungry, my love?'  
  
'For love of my wife, I could exist on air alone,' Pippin answered, taking her hand and kissing the palm. 'Which it looks to be I'll be doing this night,' he added.  
  
'O no,' Diamond said, laughing. 'We will eat in the great room this night; we have guests arrived for the pony races on the morrow.'  
  
'Guests?' the Thain asked. 'Who?'  
  
'O it must have slipped my mind,' the steward said, 'I meant to tell you that a group of Bucklanders arrived this afternoon while you were resting on the couch.'  
  
'You saw them from the window and didn't tell me?' the Thain asked with deceptive gentleness.  
  
'Your eyes were closed; I didn't want to waken you.'  
  
'Anything else slip your mind this day, cousin?'  
  
Regi grinned. 'Well, the Mayor of the Shire has come to open the ceremonies tomorrow.'  
  
'O really?' the Thain said, lifting his chin to give the steward a piercing look. 'I thought he always opens the Strawberry Festival in Southfarthing on the First of June.'  
  
'Perhaps he wanted a bit of variety,' Ferdibrand said smoothly, coming to Pippin's other side. He and Reginard lifted the Thain between them.  
  
'Anything else I need to know?' Pippin asked as they carried him down the corridor.  
  
'O if I think of anything, you know I'll tell you.'  
  
They entered the great room and Pippin's breath failed him. All the long tables were full of hobbits, Tooks and Brandybucks and others, he saw.  
  
They must have been well coached, for none stared and no small hobbits asked awkward questions as he was settled in his chair at the head of the first table, Diamond taking the seat by his side. As one, the visiting hobbits rose and bowed to their host, and Pippin inclined his head to them. He spoke to the Mayor, on his right. 'Well, Samwise, what brings you here?'  
  
Sam smiled. 'I've heard of the famous Tookland pony races for years now, and never got the chance to see one. Thought I'd bring the family along, it's not that far from Hobbiton.'  
  
'Looks as if you've brought half of Hobbiton with you,' the Thain commented.  
  
Ferdibrand laughed as he filled their winecups. 'The Gamgees make up half of Hobbiton,' he grinned.  
  
'Yes, and the other half of Hobbiton will arrive on the morrow to see the races,' Mistress Rose said. 'Bywater as well, I hear. You'll have a fair day, Sam tells me, and hobbits are always ready for a holiday.'  
  
Pippin turned to greet Estella on his left. 'Is Merry here?'  
  
She shook her head with a smile. 'No, matters of business kept him, I'm afraid. He's still hoping he might get away at the last moment.'  
  
'He'd hardly get here from Buckland in time for the races, then,' Pippin said. 'It's a long way.'  
  
'O yes, but if he finishes early enough he'll make half the journey tonight, stay at the Crowing Cockerel, perhaps, and start early in the morning,' Estella said. The Thain gave her a sharp glance. Merry had probably travelled with the Buckland contingent as far as the Cockerel, then stopped off to stay the night. Good ale there, Pippin wished he were keeping Merry company at this moment.  
  
Diamond watched with satisfaction as her husband ate generous portions of the festal food, chatting with their guests, relaxed and cheerful.  
  
At the end of the meal, the visitors rose together to thank the Thain, and straggled out of the room amid a buzz of pleasant conversation, comfortable, contented, and well fed.  
  
'Would you care to come back to the study for a glass of ale?' Pippin asked Mayor Samwise.  
  
'That would be the perfect end to that meal,' Sam said. He knew the Thain was no longer able to enjoy a pipe, so he, the Mayor, would take an ale if that was what was on offer. Reginard nodded to him, and Sam rose to take Pippin from one side as the steward took the other. He did not let his grief show as he helped bear the Thain, talking and laughing, to the study.  
  
They sat down with their ale and sipped in companionable silence while Regi built up a fire, then began to talk of inconsequential things. It was not terribly chilly, but the crackling fire whispered a homey and comfortable counterpoint to the conversation.  
  
Finally, Samwise put his ale down and looked Pippin in the eye. 'What's this I hear about you stepping down as Thain?' he asked quietly.  
  
Pippin looked into his glass, watching the bubbles rise, then met the Mayor's eye. 'Well, it's not my idea, really,' he said, 'but some folk seem to have taken it into their heads they'd be better off with a Thain who has legs.'  
  
'You have legs,' Sam said. 'Plain as the nose on my face.'  
  
'Ah, but not half so useful,' Pippin answered. 'On the morrow after the races, a delegation of Tooklanders is going to come and give me their decision. They've been wrestling with the problem a month now. They gave me notice on the First of May that they planned to depose me if they could find no reason not to.'  
  
'Cheeky --' and Pippin saw that the Mayor controlled himself with difficulty, not allowing rude speech to pass his lips, though the word hung in the air between them.  
  
'My thoughts, exactly,' the steward put in smoothly, adding more ale to their glasses.  
  
'I'm glad you came to celebrate with us, Sam, since it might very well be my last day as Thain. Very fitting that you should come to see me out, just as you came to see me in when I was installed in the office.'  
  
'I wouldn't give up hope quite yet, Mr Pippin,' Sam said, just as he might have back when they were climbing Caradhras, or trying to get up the nerve to jump a fissure in Moria. 'You never know what's going to happen ahead of time.'  
  
'A good thing, too,' Pippin said thoughtfully. 'Or I'd've lost my nerve long ago.'  
  
Regi snorted, but Sam shook his head. 'Wouldn't we all, Mr Pippin? Wouldn't we all...'  
  
***  
  
The next day dawned fair, bright with promise. Sandy laid out the Thain's fancy togs he'd got from Gondor, the black guardsman's uniform, the shining mail, surcoat, sword belt, helm, cloak.  
  
'My, aren't we fancy today?' Pippin said. 'Is it to be a fancy dress ball, then?'  
  
'We'll give them a spectacle they won't soon forget, husband,' Diamond said encouragingly.  
  
'That's the truth.' He grinned at his wife. 'Now aren't you glad you didn't stuff me as full as you thought you ought? It still fits!'  
  
'It oughtn't,' she pouted. 'But we must take our blessings where we may find them.' She fastened the clasp on the cloak and stepped back. 'You look... almost kingly, my dear,' she said.  
  
'Glad you said "almost",' Pippin answered. 'Wouldn't want to get a swelled head. This helm is uncomfortable as it is.'  
  
Regi and Sandy picked him up, carrying him to the entrance where Ferdibrand waited with Socks and Diamond's pony. They helped him into the saddle, guarding his energy, keeping as much as possible in reserve for the ceremony to come. Regi handed up the Stick, and Pippin slipped it into the holder that had been riveted to the saddle to contain it.  
  
He gave Diamond a bright smile. 'Are we ready, love?'  
  
She nodded firmly. 'Quite ready.'  
  
They could hear the clamour of the crowds surrounding the racetrack and covering the overlooking hills. The noise increased as they walked their horses to the central spot where the Mayor waited to open the festivities. Looking out over the crowd, the Thain saw that most of Tookland must have come, along with a sizeable portion of Hobbiton and Bywater, hobbits from as far away as Michel Delving, and a large number of Bucklanders. Even as they reached the Mayor and prepared to dismount, he saw a flame-coloured pony pressing through the crowd to reach the front of the Buckland contingent.  
  
'Ah, I see the Master of Buckland was able to tear himself away after all,' Pippin muttered to Diamond.  
  
'It appears to be the case,' she answered with a smile.  
  
Sober hobbits came forward to take their reins, and he and Diamond dismounted, the Thain a little stiffly, but the practice of the last two weeks had paid off and he was able to slip from the saddle without any embarrassing upsets. He took down the walking stick, and leaning heavily upon it, with Diamond on his other side, he managed the few steps to reach the Mayor's side.  
  
Sam turned to acknowledge him, then turned back to the crowd and raised his arms. Relative silence fell. 'Ladies, and gentlehobbits!' he shouted. 'Hobbits of Tookland! We thank you for your welcome and hospitality!' Tooklanders raised a shout. 'Hobbits of the Four Farthings, we thank you for coming to celebrate this fine day!' All the rest of the hobbits gave a cheer. 'I, Mayor Samwise of the Shire, now declare the festivities to be open!' All the hobbits raised their voices in glad acclamation.  
  
Mayor Samwise stood watching the crowd. As it was evident he had more to say, the noise quieted down again, gradually, and when he figured he had the attention of more than half, he raised his arms again for quiet.  
  
'I wish to thank the Thain and his Mistress for hosting this event,' he shouted. He bowed to Pippin and Diamond, and they nodded back with dignified smiles.  
  
'Very Thainly, my dear,' Diamond whispered.  
  
'Thank you, love,' he replied. 'A very nice sendoff they're giving us, indeed,' Pippin muttered under cover of the cheering.  
  
'Hobbits of the Shire!' Sam shouted again. 'May I present to you, Thain Peregrin I, the finest Thain the Shire has ever known!'  
  
Pippin raised an eyebrow at Diamond. 'Ever?' he mouthed at her.  
  
'Ever!' she mouthed back, with a firm nod.  
  
Merry stepped forward from the Buckland contingent, nodding to Pippin and Diamond, turning slightly to look at the Bucklanders, then turning back, going to one knee before the Thain, to Pippin's consternation. The rest of the Bucklanders followed suit.  
  
'Merry! Get up, you idiot!' Pippin hissed.  
  
Merry grinned at him, saying only, 'I know exactly what I'm doing, cousin,' and then bowing his head. Pippin looked up to see Mayor Samwise and the hobbits of Hobbiton and Bywater kneeling to him as well, and then, as a ripple moves across a pond, Tooklanders knelt in an ever increasing swell, until Pippin and Diamond were the only hobbits on their feet.  
  
'The Shire greets her Thain,' Merry murmured in the silence.  
  
Regi muttered behind him. 'Somehow I do not think we need to worry any more about that little delegation, cousin.'  
  
Pippin had a feeling that he was right. 


	21. The Steward and the Mayor

Ch 21. The Steward and the Mayor  
  
The Thain's family and distinguished guests watched the races from the special box at the edge of the track, eating and laughing, drinking and cheering their favourites. It seemed like old times, but sharp Mayor Samwise noted the constraint between Master and Thain for all their jokes and easy talk.  
  
Just before elevenses the Steward of Tookland excused himself. 'Matters of business,' he said apologetically. 'There's always something to be done, even on a feast day.'  
  
At nooning, servants brought the Thain and Mistress's ponies right up to the box. Pippin laughed and excused himself to his guests. 'I suppose that's my cue that I've neglected my own business long enough.'  
  
Diamond rose hastily. 'The babes!' she said. 'It's time for them to eat. I was going to walk back to the Smials, but now I'll just keep my husband company.'  
  
Pippin smiled down at her. 'I won't complain,' he said, then looking around at the rest of the guests, he said, 'Stay, enjoy yourselves. We'll see you at the banquet this evening.' He rose, carefully balancing on the Stick, and gave an arm to Diamond. It was but a step or two to the ponies, and Samwise was close enough to see the sweat beading Pippin's face after he hauled himself unaided into the saddle. The Thain smiled and raised his hand, and he and Diamond went back to the Smials at a decorous walk.  
  
Samwise excused himself after they'd finished the generous noonday meal served in the box. 'Just need to stretch my legs a bit,' he said to Rose. 'You stay and enjoy yourself.'  
  
He meandered about, looking at some of the ponies waiting to race, smiling at the varied sights and sounds of the festival. He acknowledged the bows and nods with all the dignity due his office. When he felt that no one was taking an interest in him anymore, he turned his steps back towards the Smials.  
  
He met Reginard on guard outside the Thain's study.  
  
'Is he in?' he asked. 'I'd like to see him.'  
  
'I'm sorry,' the steward says. 'He's immersed in matters of business. Not to be disturbed.'  
  
'Is he all right?' Sam asked.  
  
'Of course he's all right,' Reginard said a little too quickly. 'He's fine, he doesn't need the Mayor of the Shire dancing attendance upon him.'  
  
Sam eyed the steward calmly. 'What's wrong?'  
  
'Nothing's wrong,' the steward huffed, but Sam noted that he was careful to keep his voice low.  
  
'O yes,' Samwise said. 'I've been through trouble enough to see it when it stands before me.'  
  
'What, did you save his life or something? You're watching over him?' Reginard demanded.  
  
'As he's saved mine, a time or two,' Sam said, but his smile did not reach his eyes.  
  
'He doesn't need you to take care of him,' the steward said coldly. 'You stick to being Mayor of the Shire and keep your nose out of Tookland's business.'  
  
'I've been his friend nearly as long as you've been his cousin,' the Mayor said quietly.  
  
Reginard gave him a quizzical look. 'You were a gardener for a long time before you became Mayor,' he said. 'Friend?'  
  
Sam smiled. He had done his bit to maintain the class distinction between his sort and the gentry, he understood the other's difficulty, didn't blame him in the least. Now that he was counted "gentry" himself, due to his position as Mayor, he received grudging acceptance, respect, even, but he knew his lowly beginnings would never quite be forgotten.  
  
'Pippin--when he was Mr Pippin--never was one to let his estate come between himself and friendship,' Sam said.  
  
Reginard chuckled and shook his head. 'No,' he answered. 'I never quite understood that... we always had it drilled into our heads that we had a place to keep, and keep it we must.'  
  
'Well, Pippin was always the contrary one,' Sam commented. 'Now let me see him.'  
  
'No,' Reginard said.  
  
Sam's penetrating gaze met his. 'What are you hiding?' he asked. 'Is he a prisoner? Are you keeping him locked up when you don't put him on parade?'  
  
Shock was quickly followed by anger, only to be replaced by sorrow in the steward's face. 'Aye,' he said heavily. 'He's a prisoner all right. But not of the Tooks.' He sighed. 'You cannot see him now because he's resting. Maybe even asleep. I hope so.'  
  
'He's not well,' the Mayor stated rather than guessed.  
  
'If the Tooks knew how unwell he is, I'd've been stuck with the Thainship this day,' Reginard said flatly.  
  
The Mayor nodded. 'That's what I suspected.'  
  
Reginard sucked in his breath. 'It's that obvious?' he said uneasily.  
  
Sam shook his head. 'Probably not,' he said reassuringly. 'But I'm an old friend. I saw him when he was still recovering from being flattened under a troll.'  
  
'I'd heard you were doing a bit of recovering yourself, then.'  
  
Sam smiled. 'I've eyes, haven't I? When I wasn't watching out for Mr Frodo, we hobbits all were watching out for Pippin; he was still only a tween at the time, remember.'  
  
Reginard slowly shook his head. 'I keep forgetting that. When he rode up dressed as a knight of Gondor, roused Tookland to throw out the ruffians... he didn't look at all like a tween.' He dropped his eyes. 'I held onto that for a long time after his father drove him away. I knew, just *knew* that someday, somehow, he'd be Thain and I knew I'd give anything to serve under him.'  
  
He met Sam's eyes again and sighed. 'And here he is, Thain, and he's been a good one, slowly bringing change to Tookland, chipping away at the chains old Paladin forged, and he nearly gets himself killed--twice in two years. The Tooks are spooked, they look for a strong leader.'  
  
'How'd the old Thain manage, then?'  
  
'What he lacked in physical strength, he made up in force of will.'  
  
'Pippin's stubborn enough,' Sam said.  
  
'O aye, he wouldn't be alive now if not for that. And he'll get better...' Regi's voice trailed off. 'He's got to get better. We need him.' 


	22. Like Old Times

22. Like Old Times  
  
After the feasting was ended, and the Thain had invited the Mayor and Master to join him in the study for ale, Mayor Samwise rose to lift the Thain from his chair, nodding to the Master of Buckland to take his other side. As they raised him, Merry found the burden to be much less than he'd expected. He met Sam's calm gaze; the Mayor gave the slightest shake of his head and said to Pippin, 'Don't know how we can manage you, this heavy mail and all.'  
  
'Now, Sam,' Pippin chided, 'You expect me to believe that? After you hauled Frodo up Mount Doom?'  
  
'He wasn't wearing mail at the time,' Sam answered, unruffled.  
  
As they reached the corridor, Pippin said, 'What kind of a ride is this, I ask you, and on Race Day? I've drawn a couple of plodding plow ponies, and no mistake!'  
  
Staid Mayor Samwise threw up his head. 'Plow ponies!' he snorted. 'Are we going to let him abuse us so, Merry?' To the delight of the young Gamgees and Brandybucks and Tooks in the hallway, he tossed his head, pranced a bit and gave a creditable whinny.  
  
'Is it a race, then?' Merry grinned.  
  
'O aye, that's the spirit!' Pippin cried.  
  
'I wager they'll be neck and neck at the turn,' Diamond laughed.  
  
'They'd better be, or it'll be my neck that's broken,' Pippin called back as the two fiery steeds bore him away, past astonished servants and laughing relatives.  
  
***  
  
Sipping at his ale, Pippin looked about and sighed. 'It's been a glorious day,' he said. 'I cannot think when last I laughed so hard.'  
  
Regi topped off their glasses and said, 'I don't know how long it'll take people to get over that last race. They may press to replace Mayor and Master as well as Thain.'  
  
'Ah, well, I can devote more time to racing, then,' Merry said. 'Much more fun than mastering, anyhow.'  
  
'Look at us,' Pippin broke in. 'The three most important hobbits in the Shire. Can you feel how heavy the air is?'  
  
'O, and I thought Ferdi had forgot to open the damper again,' Regi said.  
  
'Just think what we could accomplish if we put our heads together,' Pippin said. 'Why, we could invade Mirkwood!'  
  
'And then what?' Merry laughed.  
  
'O I dunno,' the Thain said, scratching his head. 'Civilize the elves, I suppose.'  
  
'They'd probably end up civilizing the hobbits instead,' Samwise put in.  
  
The Thain shook his head. 'No, we couldn't have that...' he said. 'That would not do at all. Elves are fine for food and music but they're dull as houses.' Sam choked on his ale and Reginard made a great show of slapping his back.  
  
'I guess we'd better leave off ideas of conquest,' Merry suggested. 'What'll we do with our time, then?'  
  
'Well, if you decide not to devote your time to pony races, I've a couple of projects in mind,' the Thain said. Turning to the Mayor, he said, 'First off, Samwise, I've never understood why there's not a road between Tuckborough and Hobbiton...'  
  
They talked on, Ferdibrand unobtrusively taking notes, until Regi said, tipping the pitcher over the Thain's glass, 'Well, that's the last of the ale.'  
  
'Good thing, too, otherwise I'd be as drunk as a Brandybuck before the evening's out,' Samwise said.  
  
'Watch yourself! I resemble that remark!' Merry said with mock sharpness.  
  
'My keeper is telling us the evening is at an end,' Pippin laughed. 'I trust your quarters meet your satisfaction?' Both Master and Mayor expressed their contentment. 'How long can you stay?'  
  
'I need to be at Michel Delving for Lithe, of course,' Mayor Samwise said. 'We can stay another week, I think. It's nice to have a holiday.'  
  
'Stay as long as you like,' the Thain told him. 'Move in permanently, there's plenty of room in the new diggings.'  
  
'Are you sure they won't come down about our heads?' Samwise grinned.  
  
'No, that new supplier you put us on to has provided some very nice wood, very high quality,' Pippin said, raising his glass in a toast to the Mayor before turning to the Master. 'And you, Merry?'  
  
'We'd planned to stay through Lithe,' he said, 'as long as Buckland doesn't wash away in the meantime.'  
  
'Well, since it's not the rainy season I suppose we'll be stuck with you until then,' Pippin said mischievously.  
  
'Is there anything else you'll be needing?' Reginard said to the guests.  
  
Samwise drained his glass and stood. 'I can take a hint,' he said. 'Come on, Merry, I have a need to cool out my race pony with a stroll in the evening air.' They took their leave of the Thain and his counselors, and left the study. 


	23. Heart to Heart Talk

Chapter 23 Heart to Heart Talk  
  
'I can't seem to talk to him,' Merry said as they walked the fields under the moon and stars. 'I haven't been able to talk to him, really talk for months.'  
  
'It's partly your fault, you know,' Samwise said.  
  
'My fault?' Merry asked, stopping short.  
  
'You started the whole mess when you rushed here to rescue him from the cave-in.'  
  
'I started the whole mess?' Merry was dumbfounded.  
  
'If all you're going to do is repeat the words I say, this conversation is not going to go very far,' Sam said. 'You could have sent your engineers to dig him out, and followed later,' he added, 'instead of making it look as if the older cousin was running to the younger cousin's rescue once again.'  
  
They walked in silence for some time while Merry digested this information.  
  
'Being Mayor, I hear things,' Sam continued at last. 'I travel all over the Shire, and when people have been celebrating a bit overmuch, sometimes they forget to guard their tongues.'  
  
He paused, then went on. 'After the cave-in, there was a lot of loose talk, the usual speculation, second-guessing. Perhaps the Thain's "think" was bigger than his "do", maybe he was to blame for those two deaths, mayhap he's trying to change what's best left alone. After all, Tookland got along fine for years before he came in with his plans and big ideas.'  
  
'And then I rush in to save him from himself,' Merry said slowly.  
  
'That's what it looked like,' the Mayor said. 'He's been fighting to keep hold of the Thainship ever since.' Merry saw him shake his head in the moonlight. 'Hobbits are funny folk,' he continued. 'The New Smials are all built, and a beautiful job, but what do they remember? The roof fallen in, and two dead.'  
  
'And the Thain to blame, for proposing it in the first place,' Merry said.  
  
'Exactly.'  
  
Merry sighed. 'It was so much easier when all we had to fight was orcs.' Sam laughed, and Merry joined him.  
  
'Sometimes I'd just like to go back to gardening,' the Mayor confessed. 'Where all you have to fight is weather and weeds.'  
  
'I wonder what Pippin would like to go back to...' Merry mused.  
  
Samwise chuckled. 'I don't know,' he said, 'but let us steal him away tomorrow from all those smothering Tooks who watch over him like dragons guarding their treasure hoard.'  
  
'That ought to be quite an adventure,' Merry said. 'But how do we get him away?'  
  
'Tell Diamond to pack an enormous picnic, and that we plan to feed it all to him; she'll distract the steward whilst we spirit him away...' Sam said, and Merry laughed.  
  
'Quite the adventure indeed,' he said. 'I'm looking forward to it.'  
  
***  
  
In truth, the plan went much as their talk the previous night. Diamond saw to it that a large picnic was packed away in three sets of saddlebags, Melilot saw to saddling the ponies, Diamond called Reginard and Ferdibrand to address a problem elsewhere in the Smials, and Sam and Merry, feeling as mischievous as young tweenagers lifting mushrooms from Farmer Maggot's fields, carried Pippin between them out of the Smials.  
  
'Where are we going?' the Thain asked.  
  
'Hush,' Merry said, 'We don't want to alert the dragons.'  
  
The Thain shook his head. Surely the strain of administering Buckland had finally broken his cousin's mind. On the other hand, he seemed to have roped in the Mayor, and Sam was grinning with delight, so this could not be all bad, whatever it was. Pippin had found much opportunity to practice patience over the last weeks, and he decided to sit back and see where this was leading.  
  
...out to the stables, evidently, where three ponies were saddled and waiting. They lifted him onto Sock's back, mounted their own ponies, and were off into the woods and hills.  
  
After they'd lost sight of the Smials, Pippin turned to Merry. 'So, did we slip away from the dragons?'  
  
'I'd say so,' Merry grinned.  
  
'Did we manage to take away any treasure with us from the hoard? A silver cup, perhaps?'  
  
'O, much better than that, cousin,' Merry said. 'We came away with the entire hoard.'  
  
Samwise chuckled. 'Indeed,' he said. 'But we had better put some miles between us and their lair or they might come after us.'  
  
'We cannot have that,' the Thain said, leaning forward to encourage Socks to speed up a bit. It felt wonderful, to be riding out to no place in particular, without knowing what specific thing needed to happen upon arrival, or whom he needed to consult with, or what persuasion needed to be accomplished. He felt, for the first time in a long time... free. 


	24. Picnic by the Spring

Chapter 24. Picnic by the Spring  
  
They rode to a spot Merry remembered from tweenage visits to the Smials, where an ice cold spring trickled from a hillside, and the woods opened into a grassy clearing. Merry and Sam spread their cloaks upon the grass and eased Pippin down. Sam handed him the saddlebags. 'Here, earn your keep,' he told the Thain.  
  
Pippin set out luncheon whilst the other two hobbled the ponies and removed the saddles and bridles. Socks immediately began to explore the clearing, snatching mouthfuls of grass as he went. Pippin laughed as the old pony suddenly went to his knees, then down to the grass for a glorious roll. 'Feels good, doesn't it, old lad?' he called. 'I could almost go for a good roll, myself!'  
  
'Here,' Merry said, handing him a buttered bun. 'Your humble servant,' he said with a bow.  
  
Pippin sighed and bit into the roll, cocking a mischievous eye up at his cousin. 'It's taken time,' he said between bites, 'but you're shaping up nicely.'  
  
'Now this looks familiar,' Merry said, picking up a bottle of golden liquid.  
  
Samwise deftly lifted it from his hand. 'Looks as if they packed some of the Hall's finest,' he said. 'Of course, we'll have to taste it carefully, make sure it's fit for the Thain's palate.'  
  
'By rights you should leave it all to the Mayor and me,' said the Thain. 'After all, you can bathe in it when you get home.'  
  
The Master shuddered. 'I'd hate to think of the waste,' he said. 'Very well, we'll share it out as equally as we can. Plenty more where that came from.'  
  
They ate and drank and talked over old times while the ponies grazed. The talk ran low, and petered out, and they simply sat in companionable silence, enjoying the sunshine. Pippin fell asleep, and Merry sat looking down at his cousin. In sleep, the lines of pain and strain smoothed away and they might be at some anonymous campsite in Hollin, accompanying Frodo on the Quest. He half expected Strider and Legolas to come out of the woods, toting a deer between them, and young Pippin to jump up with a joke.  
  
Pippin woke as suddenly as he'd slept, looking up into Merry's eyes. 'Well, cousin,' he laughed. 'What is it? Have I turned green?'  
  
'Red, rather,' Merry said. 'You've had a bit of sun today. It's good for you. Even a hobbit oughtn't spend too much time underground.'  
  
'Feels good,' Pippin said, stretching. 'I haven't had a holiday in ever so long.'  
  
'All work and no play...' said Mayor Samwise.  
  
Pippin fixed him with a bright eye. 'You're one to talk,' he said. 'All you ever do is play. This festival and that celebration...'  
  
'Ah, it's a difficult job, but somebody's got to do it,' the Mayor said placidly.  
  
'So you're going to go for Mayor again, eh?' Pippin said. 'Good. I'd hate to have to train in a new one.'  
  
'Especially when you've got the present Mayor only half trained, as it is,' Merry laughed.  
  
Pippin nodded solemnly. ' 'Tis a long, drawn-out endeavor. But he's coming along nicely, as is the Master.'  
  
'And how about the Thain?' Merry asked casually.  
  
'O, he's about the same,' Pippin said slowly. He picked a thick blade of grass, held it between his thumbs, and blew hard. With a little adjustment, he finally achieved the raucous sound he'd been after. 'They keep telling me how well I'm doing, they keep seeing improvement, they say...' He looked from Merry to Sam. 'I'm holding my own, I think.'  
  
'The leg looks fine,' Samwise said. 'Just looking at you, sitting, one would never know there's a problem.'  
  
'O aye,' the Thain said. 'We work very hard at that, half the morning each day. Keep those muscles built up, keep the leg from withering away. At least we can give the illusion, riding about Tookland on Sock's good legs, that there's naught much wrong with the Thain.'  
  
'Pippin...' Merry began.  
  
'Keep your pity to yourself,' Pippin said sharply. 'I don't need that kind of help.'  
  
Merry shook his head. 'You misunderstand me, cousin. You need pity about as much as Buckland needs water. No, I wanted to apologise for... compromising your position when the New Smials caved in. If I hadn't rushed in, empty- headed...'  
  
'You? Empty-headed?' Pippin interrupted.  
  
'Hold your tongue, this is hard enough as it is!' Merry said. '...to the rescue of my young cousin... well, I muddled things but good, and I'm sorry. I'll try to be more level-headed in the future.'  
  
'Fine,' Pippin jerked his head in a nod. 'You do that, cousin.' Then he held out his hand to Merry. 'Shake on't.' Merry gave him his own hand, and Pippin took it and shook gently, then suddenly pulled Merry to him for a fierce hug.  
  
'You silly Brandybuck,' he said. 'We cousins have to stick together. Don't go all stiff and proper on me now.'  
  
Mayor Sam sat smiling at the reconciliation. When he judged the hug was at an end, he spoke up. 'Anybody want to help me put this bottle of Buckland's best out of its misery?' 


	25. Idle Talk

Chapter 25. Idle Talk  
  
When the three truants rode up to the entrance of the Smials, the dragons were waiting.  
  
Reginard and Ferdibrand lifted Pippin down from Socks, joking, 'Have you seen the Thain? He seems to have disappeared; we cannot find him anywhere about.'  
  
'Have you tried the study?' Pippin asked. 'He's often to be found there.'  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'Now, Regi,' he scolded. 'Why didn't we think of looking there?'  
  
Mayor Sam said, 'Leave a pitcher of ale upon the desk, perhaps you can lure him out of hiding.'  
  
'I'll do that,' the steward answered. 'I suppose I ought to put out extra glasses as well.'  
  
Merry nodded solemnly. 'Good thinking. I can see why he made you steward.'  
  
***  
  
Diamond breezed into the study to drop a kiss upon her husband's head. 'Hullo, love,' she said. 'Did you have a good time?'  
  
'Terrible,' the Thain answered. 'I'm afraid we'll have to keep trying until we get it right.'  
  
She laughed. 'Well, I'm glad you're back. It seems we have a wedding to plan.'  
  
'Have some Sackville-Bagginses turned up with a daughter? I have my heart set on Faramir marrying into that family.'  
  
'No, not yet,' she answered, 'I'm afraid we're just going to have to settle for next best.'  
  
'And that is...?' the Thain asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Diamond laughed again. 'It seems Faramir and Goldilocks had quite a difference of opinion today.'  
  
'Goldilocks?' Mayor Sam said.  
  
'She's quite the spirited lass,' Diamond went on. 'Very good with mud.'  
  
'Well, she's a gardener's daughter after all,' Sam murmured with a sip of ale. 'When do we post the banns?'  
  
'We've some time, yet,' Pippin said pleasantly. 'Is she out of diapers yet?'  
  
Diamond bopped him on the head with her hand. 'She's just a year younger than Faramir!'  
  
'O that one,' the Thain said serenely. 'Simply cannot keep all these Gamgees straight...'  
  
***  
  
That evening the Thain did not appear at the evening meal, but Estella noticed that some of the tension had left her husband; Merry actually sparkled at dinner, telling tales to the young Gamgees that had them laughing until they had to hold their sides.  
  
'Father never told me *that* story about the elf and the dwarf!' Faramir broke in.  
  
'He wasn't there, lad,' Merry said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. 'It happened after he left with Gandalf to go off to Gondor.'  
  
'Ah,' Faramir said. 'I'll have to tell him about it.'  
  
'You do that,' Merry said. 'I hear you're turning into quite the storyteller, yourself now.' He did not miss the sidelong glance that one of the young Gamgees gave the lad, and smiled to himself. Samwise and Rosie would have to watch that lass, indeed. She looked as if she'd grow up to be a heartbreaker, that one. Good thing his own son would not be old enough to come to blows with his cousin when Faramir got to be the right age to notice lasses as something other than irritants. That lass would cut quite a wide swath through the youths, he didn't doubt it for a second.  
  
***  
  
There were three more outings before Samwise regretfully departed with his family. He would be back often, as the road planning and then building took place, to connect Tuckborough with the Bywater-Hobbiton road. The Thain and Mistress urged him to bring the whole family when he came.  
  
Merry and Estella stayed through Lithe, as promised, for Buckland had shown no worrisome signs of washing away during the dry season, and Berilac was a competent steward. Melilot accompanied them on several more outings, to give Merry a hand in lifting Pippin into and out of his saddle, and it was almost like old times in Buckland again.  
  
'...without the Old Forest,' Pippin said. 'I like Tookish trees much better. They learned better manners from their parents.'  
  
'O the Old Forest isn't so bad now,' Merry said. 'The trees help keep the riffraff out, you know.'  
  
'Not my favourite place for a picnic,' the Thain murmured.  
  
'No,' Merry said, thinking of a long ago day in the Old Forest, 'No, I'd imagine not.'  
  
***  
  
Finally the day came when even the Master of Buckland must resume his duties. 'Mustn't give Berilac ideas that he can get along without me, you know,' he said. 'He might think to declare himself Master, and then where would I be?'  
  
'Out of a job,' Pippin said, 'but if it were ever to come about, let me know. I'll convince Reginard to step up as Thain and you and I will go off to Gondor, see the sights, visit Rohan on the way.'  
  
'You're on,' Merry said.  
  
'So how likely is it that Berilac will try to take over?' Pippin asked. '...at least as Regent for your son?'  
  
Merry smiled. 'We can always hope,' he said. 'I'll drop a few hints.'  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: The discussion of the Old Forest, trees keeping out riffraff, and "thinking of a long ago day in the Old Forest" all refer to "Seeing the Forest for the Trees", also to be found on ff.net 


	26. The Mayor Steps In

Chapter 26. The Mayor Steps In  
  
Mayor Samwise gave over the reins of his pony and walked into the Great Smials. Reginard Took met him at the door.  
  
'What brings you here?' he asked.  
  
'I'm off to Gondor for a visit,' the Mayor smiled.  
  
'Gondor!' the steward said, startled.  
  
'I know,' Sam answered, 'I can hardly believe it myself.' He gazed consideringly at the steward. 'Came to say goodbye, see if the Thain would want me to bring anything back, or maybe to try to pry him loose and come along.'  
  
Regi shook his head but didn't smile in return. 'He'd like that, I'm sure.'  
  
Sam's smile faded. 'What's wrong?' he said. He half expected to be put off, turned away, told that the Thain was off on a visit elsewhere in Tookland, so sorry, wasted trip, real pity, that.  
  
To his surprise, Regi said, 'Come on, I'm sure he'd like to see you.' He led the Mayor, not to the study, but deep into the Smials where the Thain's private apartments were to be found.  
  
'Why didn't you turn me away at the door?' Sam asked curiously.  
  
Regi smiled without humour. 'Why, didn't you know? You're practically family.'  
  
He stopped before the Thain's door, indicating that Samwise should wait, tapped lightly and entered. A moment later, the door opened to admit the Mayor.  
  
Samwise entered, keeping his smile in place, not showing the shock he felt at the Thain's appearance.  
  
'Well, Sam, good to see you,' Pippin said wearily. 'I hear you're off to Gondor.'  
  
'Yes, Strider's asked me and Rose and Elanor for a visit,' he answered. 'We're to meet the King's escort at Brandywine Bridge next week.'  
  
Pippin sighed. 'How I wish I could come with you.' He stirred restlessly against the pillows. 'But pressing matters of business keep me here, I fear.'  
  
'Too bad,' Samwise said. 'I know Merry wished he might come along as far as Rohan, but Buckland could not spare him even that long.'  
  
'Yes, besides, if Master, Mayor and Thain all left at the same time, Shirefolk might discover they can get along perfectly well without, and we'd be out of a job!'  
  
Samwise laughed, taking in the tray with its untouched food. Following his glance, the Thain said to his steward, 'Go ahead and dispose of the evidence, Regi, before Diamond comes back. I couldn't eat another bite.' Reginard nodded and left silently with the tray.  
  
Sam settled in the chair next to the bed. 'How are you?' he said bluntly.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'O it's naught but a cold,' he said. 'Bunch of ninnies, they are, every cough is pneumonia and every sneeze a death knell, you know.'  
  
'Don't let them get away with it,' Sam said.  
  
'I know,' Pippin sighed, 'but good help is so hard to come by these days.' He moved again, and Sam rose.  
  
'Here, let me,' he said, plumping the pillows and rearranging them to settle the Thain more comfortably.  
  
'Thanks, that's just what was needed,' Pippin murmured, his eyes closing. In a few moments he was asleep, and Samwise went in search of Diamond.  
  
***  
  
'...you put the cooked tomatoes through the sieve, like this,' Samwise said as the head cook and assistants watched. 'Comes out all smooth and velvet- like, and all the seeds strained out.'  
  
He set the bowl of tomato puree down to check on the progress of the sandwich filling. 'That's it,' he said approvingly. 'Mince the meat just as fine as you can. The Thain likes the bite of onion; chop that just a tad more coarsely, but not enough to make him have to chew it if he doesn't want to. Then mix enough dressing in to make it nice and moist but not soggy.'  
  
Looking up, he jumped back to the tomatoes. 'What do you think you're doing?' he demanded, intercepting the pitcher with a sniff. 'Milk, I warrant.'  
  
'Aye,' said the startled cook.  
  
'Good thing I stopped you before you added it and we'd had to start all over,' the Mayor said sternly, shaking a finger in the other's face. 'Cream,' he intoned soberly. 'Richest you can come up with.' He nodded for emphasis. 'Cream, and no milk, in the Thain's soups and sauces from this point on.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the cook said respectfully, stirring the desired cream into the gently warming soup.  
  
'Now, let me show you how to put it all together,' Sam said. He cut thin slices of bread, spooned the filling on, topped the sandwich. 'Now we cut it in half, and then into quarters.' He suited word to action, laying the triangles neatly on the plate in a pleasing pattern. 'He'll eat more if it looks like less,' he muttered. 'Now the soup.'  
  
He bypassed the bowl the cook held out, opting instead for a mug. 'Easier to sip from,' he said, 'and sips are larger than spoonfuls.'  
  
He added a snowy napkin to the tray, and a bowl of freshly sliced fruit in bite-sized pieces. 'There.'  
  
Diamond shook her head in wonder. 'Wherever did you learn all this, Samwise?'  
  
His eyes met hers soberly. 'I kept Mr Frodo going long after he'd given up on himself,' he said softly. 'But we've got a harder row to be hoeing ahead of us...'  
  
'What do you...?'  
  
He looked around to make sure all the kitchen staff were busy about their dinner preparations, and there were no ears nearby, then spoke so softly Diamond almost didn't catch the words. 'We've got to get Mr Pippin built up to where he can take up the fight again,' he breathed. 'He has no Havens to go to.'  
  
With a nod, he picked up the tray, raising his voice to the kitchen staff. 'I thank you for your kind attention!' There was a murmur of response, and the Mayor and the Mistress of Tookland departed to bring the Thain his elevenses. 


	27. A Visit to Bag End

Chapter 27. Visit to Bag End  
  
Rose heard a pony draw up outside and breathed a sigh of relief. Samwise had made it a short visit, then. Good, with so much yet to be done before leaving for Gondor, only a week away, she still didn't know how they'd get it all done. She caught her breath in consternation. A week!  
  
Instead of Sam's usual "Well, I'm back," she heard a knocking at the door.  
  
She raised her voice to call, 'I'll get it,' and jerked the door open, thoughts still busy with preparations. 'Melilot?' she gasped, her mind immediately turning to the implications of his coming away from the Smials. Had something happened to Sam?  
  
'Aren't you going to invite me in?' he smiled, though his eyes were sober.  
  
Recalled to her manners, she welcomed him in, taking his cloak and showing him to the parlour, making small talk along the way about Yuletide festivities. They reached the parlour, and he took the seat she indicated, but made no sign of speaking on anything but trivialities. Rose could take a hint and shooed the curious children from the room, telling Rosie-lass to take the little ones to the kitchen for bread and jam.  
  
When they were alone, Melilot dug in an inner pocket. 'I have a letter for you,' he said, holding out a folded paper.  
  
'What's this all about?' she asked, taking the paper.  
  
He shook his head. 'It's not my news to tell.' His time amongst the Tooks was teaching him caution. He tapped the paper she held. 'Read your letter. I'll take back your reply.'  
  
Seeing her name in Sam's careful print, she relaxed a bit. He was all right, then. It must have something to do with the Thain. She rose, saying, 'Can I get you a cup of tea? I could use one myself.'  
  
'Thank you,' he said.  
  
Rose had a feeling of dread as she went to the kitchen and opened the letter, to scan the few lines within.  
  
'Mama, what is it?' Elanor said, wiping sticky jam from little Robin's face and fingers, seeing her mother sink into the rocking chair by the hearth and read the letter over again, biting her lip.  
  
Hamfast ran in. 'Mama, what's that Took doing in the parlour?'  
  
'He's not a Took, he's a Brandybuck!' shouted Goldilocks, in hot pursuit.  
  
'Goldi, use an indoor voice,' Elanor admonished.  
  
'He lives in Tookland!' Hamfast maintained.  
  
Rose remembered. 'O yes, Ellie, would you please take him a cup of tea?'  
  
When Elanor returned from her errand, Rose had wiped her eyes and tucked away the paper. She looked up with a smile. 'Well, Ellie, it seems your father has been detained in Tookland and won't be able to help get ready for the trip.' She rose abruptly. 'I need to put together a few things.'  
  
'What is it, Mama?' Goldi echoed her older sister. 'Has something happened to Hairy-Farry's papa?' When Rose gave only an absent-minded murmur in answer, without sharply correcting her eleven-year-old's rudeness, the children stared at one another. Goldilocks gazed after her mother's retreating back. 'O Farry,' she breathed, sudden tears coming to her eyes.  
  
At a sharp call from her parents' room, Elli came to find her mother packing a bag with her father's things. Hearing her step, Rose looked up. 'Ellie, I want you to pack up some bags of your father's special teas.' She ticked them off on her fingers, had Ellie repeat the list back to her. Satisfied, she nodded, then went back to her packing.  
  
When Ellie brought the packets of tea to her mother, Rose added them to the bag and strapped it up. 'Thank you, dearie,' she said. She held Ellie's gaze. 'Take the children out to the stables, make sure all the harness gets polished until it gleams.'  
  
'Yes, Mama,' Elanor said, going to do her mother's bidding, unanswered questions tumbling over each other in her mind.  
  
When they returned from the little stables, the visitor had gone and Rose had dinner well under way. 'Wash your hands, children,' was all she said. By common consent, none of the children mentioned their absent father.  
  
*** Author's Note: Wrote a *bunch* of new chapters last night and the ideas keep coming faster than I can write them down. So you might be getting some frequent updates over the next few days, until the Muse takes herself off again to wherever it is she goes...  
  
Thank you for your reviews, they are such an encouragement!  
  
Who'd like to come along to Gondor? I think there's an extra pony or two, and O my, aren't those guardsmen in the King's escort a handsome bunch... if a bit oversized... 


	28. Postponement

Chapter 28. Postponement  
  
Pippin opened his eyes to find Sam sitting beside him. 'What are you doing here?' he asked. 'I thought you were off to Gondor.'  
  
'I'm not leaving for a week yet,' Sam answered placidly.  
  
'Don't you have some packing to do?'  
  
'I travel light,' Sam said.  
  
'So I've heard.' Pippin pulled ineffectually at the covers. Samwise pulled them up and smoothed them.  
  
'Better?'  
  
'Thanks. So what are you doing here?' Pippin repeated.  
  
'I'll say this for you, you're persistent,' Sam said.  
  
'It's a necessary quality for a Thain,' Pippin answered. 'Well? Do I have to ask again?'  
  
'I spent hours slaving in the kitchen, you know,' Sam said half-seriously, 'and then I find you hadn't the courtesy to even taste my cookery.' When Pippin didn't answer, he went on, 'Don't worry, it didn't go to waste, I made Diamond eat it. She's looking a bit puny. Worried about her husband, I suspect.' He leaned forward. 'What happened?'  
  
'O, I got sick, couldn't keep anything down, they stuck me in the bed and took my Stick away, so here I am, helpless, can't even wave the Stick around and threaten them anymore.'  
  
'I want you to try some of this,' and Sam reached for a covered mug on the table. 'I promise, there's no honey in it.'  
  
'That's a mercy.' Pippin sipped, nodded. 'That's good,' he said.  
  
'Hungry?'  
  
'Don't push your luck,' the Thain warned. 'Why are you here, Sam?'  
  
Sam chuckled, shaking his head. 'Same old Pippin,' he said. 'Full of questions.'  
  
'No, just one question,' the Thain snapped. 'And I'm starting to get annoyed.'  
  
'Good,' Sam said calmly. 'Get your blood moving.'  
  
'Sam!' Pippin said in exasperation.  
  
'I'm here because I came to tell you I'm off to Gondor,' Samwise said.  
  
'Fine. You told me already. You're not one for repeating yourself, Sam. So go, already, and say hullo to Strider for me.'  
  
'I'm not going,' Sam said quietly.  
  
'Will you make up your mind? Going... not going...'  
  
'Not with you like this. Likely to find you covered with turf when I come back, and how could I face Merry?'  
  
Instead of fighting him as he'd hoped, Pippin looked away.  
  
'Here,' Sam said, 'take some more tea.' The Thain sipped obediently. 'Should be settling your stomach some.' Pippin nodded. 'Good.'  
  
'You said the King's escort would meet you at Brandywine Bridge in a week.'  
  
'Yes. They may have to wait a bit longer than that. I'm not leaving here until I see you better,' Sam answered.  
  
'What if...' Pippin didn't finish the question.  
  
'What if you don't get better?' Sam asked bluntly. 'What if you die?'  
  
'You were never one to mince words,' Pippin said.  
  
'Well, I just couldn't go at all, then,' Sam answered the question. 'How could I show my face in Gondor, bearing news that their Ernil i Pheriannath had died? They'd probably put me to the sword like your friend Beregond.'  
  
'They didn't -- Beregond's still alive,' Pippin corrected.  
  
'And so are you,' Sam said stubbornly. 'And I'm not leaving until I see you back on your feet again.' He blushed as Pippin started to chuckle. 'O, er, back on *one* foot again, anyhow.'  
  
'O Sam,' Pippin said, 'I'm glad you're here.' Sam was silent a moment, thinking of a cousin of Pippin's who'd said much the same thing to him a lifetime ago.  
  
'Sam?' Pippin's voice broke him out of his thoughts.  
  
He met the Thain's eyes, took the empty mug away and set it on the table, took Pippin's hand in his own. 'I'm here,' he said. 'We'll see this thing through together.'  
  
There was a tap on the door, and Diamond came in with a tray, face hopeful. Sam turned back to Pippin with a grin. 'Now that your stomach's settled, shall we try again?' He lifted the mug from the tray, settling it securely between Pippin's hands.  
  
'It smells good,' the Thain said in surprise.  
  
'It ought to,' Sam said, 'It's Mayor Gamgee's Famous Mushroom Soup.' Pippin sipped, nodded, raising his eyebrows appreciatively.  
  
To distract him enough to keep him eating, Sam settled back in his chair and began to chuckle. 'Do you remember the day I introduced Boromir to mushroom soup?'  
  
'Do I?' Pippin laughed. 'He thought you were trying to poison us all!'  
  
'He changed his tune... though it wasn't proper soup at all. Mushrooms gathered as we walked, a little dried meat, some wild onions, fresh water from that spring we camped by... I think the secret must have been that water, I've never tasted anything like it.'  
  
'Frodo swore you could take tree bark and moss and boil it up and come up with delicious soup.'  
  
Sam nodded. 'Mr Frodo never had a word of complaint about my soup.'  
  
'And I don't, either,' Pippin said, finishing the mug. 'That was good.'  
  
'Good,' Sam said. 'We'll let your stomach think on it for a bit, then I want you to try something more, Mr Pippin.'  
  
'What's with the "Mr Pippin" all of a sudden?' the Thain asked sharply.  
  
'Well, I'm not Mayor anymore, at the moment, I've given it up for the trip. You'll see Tolman Cotton coming around on Mayor's business whilst I'm gone.'  
  
'Call me "Mr" again and I'll take my Stick to you...' the Thain threatened, '...that is, if they ever give it back to me.'  
  
'O, well, we cannot have that now,' Sam said. 'Rose would come after you, and you know what a temper she's got.'  
  
'Yes, I can see you've bruises all over you,' Pippin replied. 'Has she not stopped beating you yet?'  
  
'No,' Sam said. 'I wish you hadn't taught her so many tricks at Kings*,' he added. 'She beats the stuffing out of me every time we play.'  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: "Kings" is a hobbit form of checkers. 


	29. Farewell

Chapter 29 Farewell  
  
It took longer than a week, but Sam received word from the King's escort that they would stop at the inn in Bree, ready to depart at his convenience.  
  
Sam had stern words with the steward and chancellor before he left. 'How could you let him sink so low?' he asked.  
  
'He just wouldn't eat,' Regi said helplessly. 'At first he couldn't keep anything down, and then he stopped trying.'  
  
'Well, your healer knows now how to make up my special tea,' Sam said. 'It's a little thing I came up with after one too many at the Green Dragon, but it seems to work well on other ills as well, should this happen again.'  
  
He looked from Reginard to Ferdibrand. 'You need to invite Merry for regular visits,' he said soberly. 'You're too close to him, if he starts to sink the change is so gradual you don't see it in time. If Merry comes for a week of every month, he can help keep the weeds out of the row.'  
  
Regi smiled at the gardener-Mayor's choice of words. 'Don't you worry,' he said. 'I have it on my calendar, First of every month, "Invite Master to Smials".'  
  
'Good.' Samwise put a hand on the steward's shoulder. 'You've got to keep him going until I get back.'  
  
'What do you mean?' Regi asked, sensing more than the usual weight behind the words.  
  
'You know the old saying, "The hands of the King are the hands of a healer"? I'm going to ask the King for a cure, see what I can bring back. Bring the King himself, if I have to. It's about time he visited that Lake of his again.'  
  
Regi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'I hardly dare to hope,' he said, opening his eyes again to meet Sam's. 'Hurry back.'  
  
'I'll do my best,' Sam said. 'Keep him going.'  
  
'I'll do my best,' Regi echoed soberly.  
  
***  
  
Diamond saw him off. Sam was to meet the rest of his family in Buckland; the rest of the Gamgee children would be dividing their time between the Hall and the Cotton farm whilst their parents were away. The Thain had sent notice via pony post to Merry, asking him to relay the news to the King's escort in Bree.  
  
'Bless you,' the Mistress of Tookland said, giving him a hug.  
  
'Next time he falls ill, you send for Merry right away,' Sam said firmly. 'I don't care about politics or what people say or even if they try to take the Thainship away from him again, foolish as people can be. Send Melilot if you have to, if Regi won't cooperate.'  
  
'O he'll cooperate,' Diamond said grimly. Sam smiled at her, turned to his pony, and mounted. He raised a hand to acknowledge the farewells of the hobbits who'd come out to see him off. Looking up, he caught sight of Pippin, leaning on his Stick, standing by the window of the Thain's study. He nodded, receiving a nod from the Thain in his turn, reined his pony around, and rode away.  
  
The weather was mild; it was still the time of the January thaw, where winter relaxed its relentless grip for a bit, like a dog tugging war, who lets go while seeking a tighter grip. Sam was glad they'd be off before the freezing temperatures returned with a vengeance. He made good time to Buckland despite the sloppy roads.  
  
Merry had the Ferry in operation, anticipating his arrival, which meant he could go directly to the Hall and didn't have to go by way of Brandywine Bridge. The ferry keeper raised the flag, grinning at Sam. 'They've a lookout in the Hall,' he said. Sure enough, before the ferry was halfway across the great river, bodies came boiling down the bank to meet him. He was swarmed by a shouting, hugging crowd of Gamgees.  
  
When Sam was able to get his breath again, he looked up to see the Master patiently waiting. Left arm firmly around Rose's waist, he said, 'Merry,' extending his right hand.  
  
Merry took it. 'Well met,' he said. 'How's Pippin?'  
  
'Back on his feet. We've weathered this storm, at least.'  
  
Merry nodded. 'Well, come in, dinner's about to be served. The escort will meet you tomorrow, so you might as well sit by the fire and sip brandy tonight.'  
  
'Sounds like the perfect way to prepare for a long journey,' Sam smiled. 


	30. Departure

Chapter 30. Departure  
  
They were up early the next morning, with much hustle and bustle about the Hall. The children kept thinking of things they needed to tell their parents, and Rose kept thinking of things she needed to tell the children. Hugs and kisses were being thrown carelessly about.  
  
When it came time to ride to the Bridge, Estella stood holding Robin and Ruby, while Bilbo, Primrose, Daisy, Hamfast, and Goldilocks gathered around her. The latter two were pouting, for Sam had decreed that everyone under the age of twelve must say their goodbyes at the Hall. Young Pippin, young Merry, Rosie-lass and Frodo-lad would be allowed to ride ponies to the Bridge with the Master of Buckland to see their parents and Ellie on their way.  
  
Rose worked her way down the row of children, with hugs and kisses and endearments, coming at last to Estella and the tiniest Gamgees. 'O my loves...' she began, but could not finished, turning to bury her face in Sam's shoulder.  
  
'Hush now, lass, don't upset the little ones,' he murmured in her ear.  
  
'I cannot...' she said softly. 'I cannot leave them for five months, Sam.'  
  
He smiled in understanding, pushed her back, looked searchingly in her eyes. 'Do you want to stay? It's not too late to change your mind.'  
  
'Are you going?' He nodded. She knew that part of it was his determination to find a cure for the Thain before Pippin's time ran out. She took a deep breath, lifting her head. 'It's only five months,' she said. 'Maybe less, if we don't stay a whole month.'  
  
'That's right, lass,' he said encouragingly. She turned back to the children.  
  
The littlest ones didn't understand, she knew. They thought it was just another visit to the Hall, and Papa and Mama were off on a pony ride, to be back in time for tea. The older children were keeping up a brave face so as not to upset their smaller brothers and sisters.  
  
'Papa, are you going a-journey in the Wild?' Hamfast asked.  
  
'Yes, Ham,' Sam answered.  
  
'Will you see the elf and the dwarf?' Daisy asked.  
  
'We might,' her father smiled.  
  
'Will you tell us stories about them when you get back?' Goldi demanded.  
  
'If you're good and don't make trouble for Auntie Estella and Uncle Merry,' Sam said.  
  
'We'll be good!' all the little Gamgees chorused.  
  
'We're going to make sticky gingerbread!' little Bilbo announced proudly.  
  
' 'ticky!' Ruby confirmed, and little Robin crowed his delight.  
  
'That's lovely,' Rose said with a smile. 'You be good for your Auntie Estella now.' There was a chorus of assent, a last group hug, and the travellers mounted their ponies, Merry taking the lead rope of the pack pony in hand.  
  
The younger hobbits chattered merrily on the ride to the Bridge, excited over the much-anticipated meeting with guardsmen of Gondor. It had been six years since they'd met the King and his entourage at the Bridge, when King Elessar had traveled to Lake Evandim to visit the Northern part of his Kingdom.  
  
The escort was waiting at the Bridge, well before the appointed time. Mounted on their horses, they looked impossibly tall to the young hobbits, and Rosie-lass caught her breath in fear and delight, once again envying Elanor the journey.  
  
'Don't they look handsome, all black and silver?' Rosie-lass whispered to her brothers.  
  
'They look just like the Thain at race day last summer,' Frodo returned.  
  
'Only taller,' irrepressible young Merry added.  
  
'Much taller,' young Pippin could not resist contributing.  
  
The Captain, a grizzled veteran of the War, swung down from his mount, coming to kneel before the hobbits, in order to speak eye-to-eye. 'Well met, Ringbearer,' he said gravely to Sam, then turned to Merry. 'Master of Buckland?'  
  
'Yes,' Merry nodded.  
  
The Captain smiled. 'I have someone here who wishes to greet you.' He gestured to the guardsmen behind him, and another swung down from his horse to approach the group. The tall soldier looked slightly familiar to Merry, very much like Beregond, as a matter of fact. He followed his Captain's example, going to his knees to greet the hobbits.  
  
'Merry?' he said. 'Do you know me?'  
  
Merry looked at him, puzzled, for the deep voice was not familiar, but then... 'Bergil!' he exclaimed. The other laughed in delight. 'You've grown!'  
  
'So have you,' the other retorted, and Merry patted his paunch.  
  
'Yes, I am a proper hobbit, now. Well-fed and rested from all my endeavors.'  
  
'Is Pippin here?' Bergil said eagerly.  
  
Merry's smile faded. 'No. He would have liked to have been here, I'm sure. I will be travelling to the Great Smials this week; I'll be sure to give him your greetings.'  
  
'Thank you,' Bergil said, looking disappointed, but quickly schooling his expression.  
  
'We are ready to depart,' the Captain said, and at a look from him, Bergil rose, bid Merry farewell, and mounted his horse. 'I thought we would travel to Bree this day, stay over at the Prancing Pony, and then head Southward on the Greenway in the morning.'  
  
Sam and Rose made their farewells with the rest of their children, and Sam stopped to have a last word with Merry.  
  
'Take care of him,' he said. 'If he can just hang on until I get back with Strider or some kind of potion of his...'  
  
'We'll do our best,' Merry said.  
  
'That's all you can do,' Sam said.  
  
'Wave for me as you go through Rohan,' Merry said with a grin, 'and if you stop in at the Golden Hall, give Eomer a bottle of the Hall's finest from me.' He had given Sam several carefully wrapped bottles for Elessar, Faramir, Imrahil, and Eomer.  
  
'Of course, if we don't stop in at Rohan, I can drink it, right?' Sam grinned. He slapped Merry on the back. 'I'll tell them it's from you,' he said. 'Not to worry.' 


	31. Journey to Gondor

Chapter 31. Journey to Gondor  
  
The weather continued mild for a few days, and when bitter temperatures returned, the Captain of the escort broke out beautiful fur cloaks that Queen Arwen had sent for Rose and Elanor.  
  
The escort consisted of ten guardsmen on tall horses, and at first it felt odd to the hobbits to be riding with such a wall about them. Two guards rode to the fore, two to the rear, and the other six encompassed the little party they escorted.  
  
'Is there really need for such care?' Sam asked one night when they were gathered around a campfire, with two guardsmen standing watch over the party.  
  
The Captain laughed. 'Probably not,' he said, 'but the King's taking no chances after what happened to the Master and Mistress of Buckland. There will always be ruffians about, and it is better to be ready for them than to be surprised.'  
  
'O yes,' Sam nodded. He knew much about being ready, whether you could smell trouble nearby or no.  
  
Elanor enjoyed the journey, staring wide-eyed as the familiar terrain of the Shire gave way to wilder country. When they reached a branch in the road, Sam reined up his pony, pointing back along the other branch. 'That way lies Michel Delving,' he said. 'It's not too late to turn back.'  
  
'Turn back!' Ellie said. Then curious, she asked, 'How far would it be?'  
  
'About two hundred miles,' he said, 'give or take a few.'  
  
'And how much further do we have to go?'  
  
'A bit further than that,' Sam said. The Captain of the escort, overhearing, smiled. Rose rode along silently. Travel did not seem to agree with her as well as she'd hoped. She felt drained at the end of each day, and the food cooked over the fire was somehow unappealing. She forced it down to avoid worrying her husband, but it was a disappointment. She was glad to see that the trip was living up to Ellie's expectations, though.  
  
The guardsmen were all gravely respectful towards the hobbits, especially deferential towards Samwise. Ellie loved the grown-up feeling it gave her, and it gratified her to see her father honoured by these dangerous-looking Men. She'd read the tales in the Red Book, of course, but they'd never seemed quite real to her until now.  
  
After about a fortnight of easy travel, they crossed the Greyflood. 'We have left the Greenway,' Sam told his daughter, 'and are now on the Old South Road.' He pointed off to the distance. 'Soon we'll be able to see the mountains, and in another two weeks or so we'll cross through the Gap of Rohan.'  
  
Rose sighed. It seemed to her as if this journey had already gone on forever.  
  
'We're making good time,' the Captain said. 'At this rate we should reach Minas Tirith just before the New Year, even though we started some days late.'  
  
'Since we were originally scheduled to arrive a fortnight before the New Year, I would expect you're about right,' Sam laughed. 'You planned it well, Captain, even allowing for a late start so as not to fall out of the King's favor.'  
  
'The queen's rather,' the Captain laughed. 'She has her heart set on you celebrating the New Year in Minas Tirith.'  
  
'We must not disappoint her, then,' Samwise said emphatically.  
  
'Indeed, not!' the Captain said.  
  
Sam noticed that Elanor laughed, while Rose only smiled. 'All right, Rosie lass?' he asked softly.  
  
'Fine,' she answered. 'Just a bit tired is all.'  
  
'We'll camp soon,' the Captain said, instantly solicitous.  
  
Rose and Elanor found the mountains in the distance astonishing, inspiring, and a little frightening as well. 'You climbed one of those?' Rose asked Sam in awe.  
  
'Tried to,' he laughed, 'but the mountain wasn't having any. We ended up having to go under instead.' Elanor was silent, thinking of the story she'd read in the Red Book, of the terror that was Moria.  
  
'I'm glad we're going 'round, this trip,' Rose said softly.  
  
They passed through the Gap of Rohan, and as they forded the Isen, Samwise said, 'Well, we're about halfway now. Might as well go on as not.'  
  
Rose laughed and said, 'I certainly hope so! I would hate to have done all this riding for nothing!'  
  
That night as they camped, she felt drained and a little dizzy. 'You look pale, Rosie-lass,' Sam said, concerned. He put the back of his hand to her forehead. 'You're not sickening with something...?'  
  
'I'm just tired is all,' Rose said.  
  
'You've been tired a lot, this trip. It's not like you,' Sam said.  
  
'I'm fine!' she insisted, and rose... too abruptly, for she was suddenly dizzy and Sam had to catch her.  
  
'Rose,' he said under his breath. 'Have you been feeling queasy at all?'  
  
She looked at him in surprise. 'The food doesn't agree with me the way good home-cooked food would, but...' her eyes widened as she caught his meaning. 'No, Sam, no it couldn't be!'  
  
'Couldn't it?' he asked gently.  
  
She shook her head. 'I'm past all that! Robin was the last, poor lad, it was so hard to wean him knowing there'd be no more...'  
  
'Couldn't there be?' Sam asked more gently. 'Are you sure, Rosie?'  
  
Ellie caught the gist of their conversation. 'Mama?' she said in wonder.  
  
The Captain came closer and sat himself down, the better to converse with his charges. 'I'm sorry,' he said gravely. 'I would not eavesdrop, but it is my business to note every detail under my command.' He looked at Sam. 'I beg your pardon, Sir, to ask this, but...' he turned to Rose. 'Are you with child, my lady?'  
  
Rose blushed and looked away. Sam put a protective arm about her and turned to the Captain. 'She might be,' he said.  
  
The Captain looked even more grave, if that were possible. 'I'm sorry to be so blunt,' he said, carefully addressing his words to Sam, having noticed Rose's discomfort. 'But jolting about on a pony for the better part of every day is not the best thing for your wife.' He looked away. 'My wife rode away from Minas Tirith on the wains that were to take the people to a safer place before the siege,' he said softly. 'She was expecting our first...'  
  
He took a deep breath. 'The jolting wasn't good for her, either. First she lost the babe, and then...' he swallowed, but forced himself to continue. 'Then I lost her.'  
  
Sam felt a chill. 'What do we do?' he said. 'We cannot stay here, and it's as far to go back as forwards.'  
  
'I would like to press forward with all possible speed,' the Captain answered, 'cut the journey short, but spare your wife the jolting.' He hesitated. 'If I might be so free...'  
  
'Go on,' Samwise said.  
  
'We can go faster if we lead the ponies, and each of you rides with a guardsman. We can bear Mistress Gamgee in our arms, cradle her, give her a smooth ride the rest of the journey. I would trust any of my men with the job.'  
  
Sam was quiet for a long time, considering. He looked up. 'Rose, I think he's right. Will you let them carry you?'  
  
'I'm not a doll or a babe,' she began.  
  
'For the sake of the babe,' he urged. 'And for you. Please, lass, for me?'  
  
Though the thought of one of the tall guardsmen holding her was unnerving, she nodded.  
  
She found that reality was not as unpleasant as she anticipated. She would be handed up to her bearer, who would settle her in his arms and wait for the rest to be mounted, then they would be off at a ground-eating pace. The canter was so like a rocking chair that Rose found it easy to doze and give her body the extra sleep it craved, and when the guardsmen dropped to a trot to rest their mounts, the gentle rise and fall as her bearer posted the trot was not at all jolting. Each of the guardsman was polite and respectful, answering any questions she might pose about the White City, and asking questions in return about the Shire. The time passed pleasantly enough, to Rose's relief.  
  
Ellie enjoyed riding before a guardsman, safe between his arms, and they had long conversations as the miles fell away. Sam, of course, had much to talk about with the Captain, and all in all, the sped-up journey was not disagreeable.  
  
Soon the Captain announced that they were but a day away from the White City. That evening he sent off two of the guardsmen. 'They will ride ahead to let the King know we are coming,' he said.  
  
Sam laughed. 'I could almost think you changed us from pony to horseback in order to arrive on time,' he said.  
  
'I might have, had I thought of it myself,' the Captain answered with a smile. 'We have made up much of the time we lost due to our late start.'  
  
The next day, they crossed the Rammas Echor and rode onto the fields of the Pelennor. No signs of the great battle were to be seen in the green and fertile townlands. The homesteads burned by the invading orcs had been rebuilt, the fields resown, and sheep and cattle grazed in peace upon the rich grass. Rose and Elanor gazed in delight, so Shirelike were their surroundings. To their right the great mountains followed them, but ahead was the bulk of Mount Mindolluin, the White City shining upon its out- thrust knee.  
  
As they approached, the City itself seemed to be waving and cheering in greeting, but riding ever closer they saw that the walls were lined with people, and a great multitude awaited them outside the Gate. Cheers and trumpets came to their ears, and they could see colourful banners being waved by many.  
  
King Elessar and Queen Arwen themselves greeted the travellers outside the Gate. The Captain dismounted and lifted Samwise down from the great horse, and the other guardsmen bearing hobbits did the same. Sam took Rose's hand in one of his, extending his other to Ellie, and walked forward. As they approached, Ellie was astonished to see the King and Queen bow low to her father.  
  
'Hail, Ringbearer,' the King said, smiling. 'Hail and well met.'  
  
'Hullo, Strider,' Sam smiled. 'No need to stand on ceremony with the likes of me.'  
  
The King chuckled. 'Of course not, Sam. I trust you had a good journey.'  
  
'Much better than the last,' Sam said.  
  
'Welcome to the White City,' Queen Arwen said, smiling warmly at the hobbits. 'If there is anything we can get for you, be sure to ask.'  
  
Sam laughed. 'I could use a bath, for starters,' he said.  
  
'Sam!' Rose admonished under her breath.  
  
'I think we can arrange that,' the King said. 'The Queen has worked very hard to make sure you will have every comfort during your stay with us.'  
  
Arwen came forward to offer a hand to Elanor. 'You are still my maid of honour, are you not?' she smiled.  
  
'O yes,' Elanor said sincerely, looking up into the beautiful face.  
  
The King offered a hand each to Sam and Rose. 'Come,' he said, 'Come and grace the White City with your presence.' The crowds cheered and sang and waved their banners, as they walked into the City. Elanor thought she had never seen anything quite so splendid in her life. Probably never would again, either, she thought privately to herself. Just wait until she told those at home about this!  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: The phrase, "the King's taking no chances" refers to the story "Ruffians", also to be found on ff.net 


	32. New Year's Celebration

Chapter 32 New Year's Celebration  
  
Queen Arwen had thought of everything. The rooms fitted out for the hobbits contained hobbit-sized furnishings: beds, tables, chairs, a writing desk, even a hobbit-sized tub for bathing. All the accouterments were conveniently sized as well, down to the eating utensils and tongs for tending the fire in the hearth. Round doors of hobbit height had been cut into the regular doors, with knobs in their centers.  
  
The chairs at the King's banqueting table were built high enough to raise a halfling up to the proper height without the need of cushions, with convenient ladders on each side so that one might climb up conveniently.  
  
There was not much opportunity to talk upon arrival; they were swept immediately into festivities. 'It's your own fault, you know,' the King told Samwise on the way to the banquet hall. 'You're late.'  
  
'Couldn't help it,' Sam said soberly. 'I'll tell you about it later.' The King gazed at him questioningly, but nodded and turned his mind to his official duties. On the way to the banquet hall, Sam spotted two familiar faces beaming at him. 'Gimli!' he shouted. 'Legolas!' He was immediately enveloped in a great dwarf hug, whilst a slender elvish hand grasped his shoulder warmly.  
  
'Good to see you again, lad!' the dwarf rumbled, then turned to Rose and Ellie. 'I see you've brought two of your daughters with you!'  
  
Rose laughed and blushed as the dwarf twinkled at her. The elf took her hand and bowed elegantly. 'Mistress Rose,' he smiled. 'I heard so much about you on our journey.'  
  
'Come, now, the feast is beginning,' the King urged at the sound of the trumpets. 'We mustn't let the food get cold.'  
  
'That would hardly be proper,' Sam laughed.  
  
The Queen smiled down at him. 'Not to mention how rude it would be for the guests of honour to miss their own welcoming banquet.'  
  
It was a joyous occasion, and Sam looked down the tables to see many familiar faces: Prince Imrahil, and Prince Faramir of Ithilien, attended by his Captain, Beregond, among them. The King and Queen were interested in all the doings of the Shire, but noticed that Sam turned aside talk of Pippin.  
  
After the dinner was over and the necessary speeches had been dispensed with, they relaxed in the queen's sitting room, sipping some of Brandy Hall's finest that Merry had sent with the Gamgees.  
  
'And now, what is the story with Pippin?' Aragorn asked at last.  
  
Sam sipped his own brandy in silence. Rose bit her lip, and Ellie's eyes brimmed over.  
  
'What is it?' the queen asked gently.  
  
'He's ill,' Sam said quietly. 'He had pneumonia, a few years after we returned to the Shire, and it ruined his lungs. It's gotten bad enough that a simple cold might carry him off.'  
  
The King nodded.  
  
'But that's not all,' Sam said. 'A few months back he got crushed under an overturned carriage. Now one of his legs is useless...' The Queen gave a soft exclamation of pain. 'One of the reasons we've come is to ask you to bring him healing.'  
  
'Tell me more,' Elessar said gravely. Sam went over Pippin's condition in detail, the King stopping him with an occasional probing question. Finally he sat back, shaking his head.  
  
'Well?' Sam said. 'You can help him...?'  
  
'Sam,' the King said gently. 'I know you saw many miracles done with athelas, but it cannot cure all ills or there would be noone sick or injured or dying in all my realm. There are some hurts that even the King's hands of healing cannot cure.'  
  
The words struck Sam like a blow, and he bowed his head. Rose put her head in her hands and sobbed, and Ellie put her arms about her mother, tears streaking her own cheeks. 'I'm sorry,' the Queen said softly.  
  
'We cannot just give up,' Sam said, raising his head again. 'Surely there must be some cure, something in all those dusty records you have buried here in the City. The elves...'  
  
'Did you ask the elves?' Elessar said. Looking to Arwen, he read the answer before Sam spoke it.  
  
'I did,' he sighed. 'Spent some time at Rivendell with Elrohir and Elladan. They taught me some about herbs to ease breathing, but that was about all they could offer. No miracle cures there.'  
  
'We will search the archives here, and in the Houses of Healing,' Elessar said. 'But Sam...'  
  
Sam met his eye.  
  
'If I'd had a way to help a soldier with useless legs or withered arm, you'd never have seen any about the City.' Sam nodded. He had seen such, wounded in the War, but still useful. One sat a post outside the room they were in at the moment. Though his legs would never work again, his sword arm was still strong. The King went on, 'We'll search the records, looking for some long-lost bit of information, but...'  
  
'Ah well,' Sam sighed. 'It'll give us something to do with ourselves when we run out of banquets to go to.'  
  
'How long do you think he has?' the King asked.  
  
Sam shook his head. 'The next cold could carry him off, like I said. He's got no strength left. Just hangs on by sheer will, it seems.'  
  
Elessar looked at the Queen, then back to Sam. 'I'm sorry, Sam.'  
  
'So'm I,' Sam said simply. 'That I am.' He sighed. 'Well, I guess there's no need to hurry back to the Shire now.'  
  
King Elessar looked grave. 'That's a good thing,' he agreed.  
  
'What?' Sam said startled.  
  
'Sam,' the King said. 'I'm afraid you're stuck with our company for quite awhile. You know you can't go riding back North as planned.' His eyes went to Rose, who gasped.  
  
'He's right, my dear,' Arwen agreed.  
  
'But...' Rose protested. 'My little ones, they're expecting us back...'  
  
'You must think of the new little one,' the Queen said gently.  
  
'None of my guardsmen will take on the job of transporting you back to the Shire in your condition,' the King said. 'Bunch of cowards, the lot of them.'  
  
Startled, Sam laughed, and the King smiled.  
  
'None of them is prepared to learn midwifery at this late date,' the King went on. 'So I'm afraid you'll have to stay until after the babe is born, and long enough for it to be safe to travel with the little one.'  
  
'We'll send a message back to your family,' the Queen put in, 'so they won't worry. And we can be in waiting together...' she smiled at their questioning looks. 'Yes, I have my own little one on the way.' The royal couple beamed as the hobbits showered them with congratulations.  
  
The New Year's celebration was everything Elanor could have imagined, and more. There were parades, and demonstrations by guardsmen of drill and riding and mock fighting. There was feasting and singing. Best of all, there were the fireworks. Gandalf had not taken his art with him over the Western Sea; he had left notes with the King, who saw to it that the art of firework-making was tended by skilled hands.  
  
Since they were forced by circumstances to stay in the White City for months, Rose encouraged Sam and Elanor to ride out with Gimli, Legolas, and a picked escort to Ithilien, to visit Faramir and Beregond. Sam was able to show his daughter the hiding place behind the waterfall where he and Frodo had met Faramir before setting out on the final part of their journey, and the glade in Cormallen where he'd first awakened to find that (nearly) everything sad had indeed come untrue. She found Ithilien charming and beautiful, and gathered some wildflower slips to take back to the City with her, where she planted them in pots and nursed them gently.  
  
Rose spent much time in the Queen's company, both of them busy with needlework or other motherly preparations, comparing notes on babes and mothering, for Arwen already had a lovely little daughter, the apple of her father's eye. After the bustle of New Year's was over, the days were quieter, and Rose enjoyed the peace even while missing the busy life amongst her little ones in Bag End. A message had come back from the Shire, saying that all were well and that they eagerly awaited news of the newest Gamgee, which the King promised to dispatch as soon as there was any news to tell.  
  
In August, the Queen was delivered of a son and heir to the throne, and there was much rejoicing in the White City.  
  
'He's huge!' Ellie whispered to her mother when they tiptoed in to see the new heir.  
  
The King laughed. 'He's tiny, you mean!' He smiled down at his small friends. 'I suppose he'd be huge were he born to a hobbit mum.'  
  
'Indeed,' Rose said, barely repressing a shudder. 'He's just as big as he ought to be, but I'm glad I didn't have the bearing of him!'  
  
Arwen laughed and kissed her on the cheek. 'Your own time is drawing near,' she said, 'but we have fine midwives here in the City and you will be in fine hands.'  
  
'I know,' Rose sighed, hand on her abdomen. 'I wouldn't mind if this babe would come right now, but I suppose I'll have to wait another month.'  
  
'The next celebration in the City will be Ringday,' the Queen smiled. 'Surely the babe will have arrived by then so that you can enjoy the feasting.' She remembered the last days of her confinement, where only small bites of food could be consumed at a time. This must surely be a sore trial to a hobbit.  
  
'Ringday?' Sam asked.  
  
'Yes,' the King said, 'the Twenty-second of September.'  
  
'Frodo's birthday?' Sam said, flabbergasted.  
  
'Why, yes,' Elessar smiled. 'So it is.' Sam met his eyes with his own smile. He was glad that, at least here in Gondor, Mr Frodo would be remembered for always.  
  
As it happened, Rose missed the feasting of Ringday, ending her confinement on that very day, delivering herself of a son.  
  
'Do you know what day it is, Rose?' Sam said, gently stroking back the curls from her forehead.  
  
'Day?' she murmured absently, gazing in wonder down at the tiny face.  
  
'It's Mr Frodo's birthday,' he said.  
  
She looked up, chagrin on her face. 'O Sam,' she said, sharp disappointment in her tone, 'I'm so sorry!'  
  
'Why's that, lass?' he asked in confusion.  
  
'We've already named a lad Frodo!' she said.  
  
He laughed. 'That's all right, then,' he said gently. 'We've got two ways to remember him now, one by name and one by birthday.'  
  
'What'll we name him, then?' Rose said. They went by the old hobbit custom where the husband named the lads whilst the wife named the lasses.  
  
Sam smiled down at her. 'We haven't named one for your father yet,' he said. 'And since this might well be the last, don't you think it's about time that we did?'  
  
'I think so,' said Rose, and giving a deep sigh, she cuddled the babe and looked down into his sweet face. 'Welcome to the world, little Tolman. We are so glad to greet you.'  
  
'That we are, lad,' Sam said.  
  
***  
  
The halfling babe caused quite as much a stir as the new heir. 'He's so tiny and perfect,' Queen Arwen marveled, for once at a loss for words. 'Exquisite,' she said. The King could hold the wee bit of babe in the palm of one hand.  
  
'He's just like any other babe,' Sam said.  
  
'Not just like any other,' Rose maintained. 'He's ours.' She reclaimed Tolman from the bemused King and smiled down at her littlest. Having the warm bundle in her arms made the steady ache for her other little ones a bit more bearable somehow.  
  
The little princess had to be watched carefully, as she seemed to think Tolman a new doll procured especially for her. This was not too arduous a task, as there always seemed to be an adult hovering, ready to take him whenever Rose's arms tired.  
  
They caused a stir whenever they were about in the streets. They'd always caused a stir before, this was nothing new. Rose had learned what the cry "Pheriannath" meant, 'twas one of those funny foreign words meaning hobbit, which made her shake her head. Why didn't they just say "Hobbits" then and be done with it? But the tiny babe was a magnet to draw the eyes of all.  
  
'You're going to be famous one day, young Tom,' Sam smiled down at his youngest. 'Just look at the stir you cause wherever you go.'  
  
Bergil had been assigned to their guard detail, and he spent much time in their company when they were not in their special "hobbit rooms". It was comical to see the tall guardsman at times holding the wee babe as if he were a father carrying a doll for a tired little daughter.  
  
'You're a natural,' Sam told him. 'When are you going to get married and have one of your own then?'  
  
Bergil laughed. 'At Yule, actually,' he said.  
  
'Why haven't you brought the girl around?' Rose scolded. 'You know we would love to meet her!'  
  
Bergil said, 'She's a bit shy, you being such famous folk and all.'  
  
'We're just regular folk,' Rose said. 'I'm a farmer's daughter, nothing special.'  
  
'I would disagree with that,' Samwise said, putting an arm around her. 'I think you're very special.'  
  
'She's a farmer's daughter, too,' Bergil smiled. 'I think you'll get along fine, if I can persuade her to come.'  
  
'Tell her we don't bite,' Sam said, 'Not on first meeting. At least,' he said, looking down at Rose with a squeeze and a twinkle in his eye, 'We don't bite hard.' He looked more closely at Rose, who had lost her smile. 'What is it, Rosie-lass?'  
  
'Yule,' she sighed. 'We'll still be here at Yuletide. Here it is October already. I ought to be putting up apple butter and pumpkin preserves.'  
  
'So you're taking a nice long holiday for a change,' Sam said gently. 'And look at the bright side. We might be able to attend Bergil's wedding, if he asks us.'  
  
'If I ask you?' Bergil laughed. 'What kind of a question is that? I'm counting on you to come! You've practically adopted me!'  
  
Ellie smiled up at him, *way* up. 'You're my tallest brother now,' she laughed. 'Just wait until Frodo finds out. He always prided himself on being tallest.'  
  
Sam was looking sober himself, and Rose gave him a squeeze in return. She knew he was thinking about Pippin. 


	33. Spring Picnic

Chapter 33. Spring Picnic  
  
The Thain looked up to rest his eyes on the view outside the study window. He noted with surprise that it hardly looked like mid-February. 'It looks like spring,' he mused aloud.  
  
'We're having an early spring, it seems,' his steward answered him.  
  
'What's it like out there?'  
  
'More like May than February,' Regi said. 'We've made it through another winter.'  
  
'That's something,' the Thain said. He was quiet a moment, thinking, then said, 'Reg? Could you ask Diamond to pack a picnic, and then have Socks and White Face saddled?'  
  
'Sir?' The steward looked penetratingly at the Thain. The Took was looking well, better than he had in weeks.  
  
'I think I'm going to take my wife out for a ride. She's been cooped up all the winter. It's about time I took a day off,' Pippin said.  
  
'Very good, Sir,' Reginard answered.  
  
The Thain laughed. 'And take the day off, yourself, you're getting much too stiff and proper!'  
  
Regi smiled. 'Thank you, cousin, I think I will.' He went out to set the preparations in motion, then came back with Ferdibrand to carry the Thain out to the ponies.  
  
Diamond was waiting with a bright smile. 'What a lovely idea!' she said.  
  
'Yes, I'm surprised you didn't think of it first,' her husband teased. 'Picnic lunch, open air, stimulate the appetite, get the Thain to eat...'  
  
'O you!' she said in exasperation.  
  
The Thain looked to Melilot, standing by his own pony. 'Going somewhere?'  
  
'Don't you need an escort?' Melilot asked.  
  
'Take your own wife on your own picnic,' the Thain retorted. 'Diamond and I will be fine.' He smiled at his wife. 'I think we can manage well; I haven't felt this good in a long time.' He allowed them to lift him onto the pony, saying 'You know I can climb up by myself if I want to, just allowing you poor folk to feel useful is all.'  
  
Diamond mounted her own pony, and the two were off into the hills and woods.  
  
Pippin led them to his favourite picnic spot, the grassy clearing by the spring, riding beneath wild cherry trees in blossom which sprinkled them with delicate petals. They pulled up their ponies in the clearing, and Pippin slid from his saddle. 'We'll put the blanket right here, my love,' he said.  
  
'Your wish is my command,' Diamond answered, bowing low to him, taking down the thick blanket she'd packed to keep any chill of the earth from reaching them, and spreading it out on the lush grass in the sunshine. She helped him to sit down, then said, 'What do we do with the ponies?'  
  
'Just tie them up to a tree, there,' he said. 'Sadly we cannot stay all the day, and they'll be all right under saddle while we picnic. Besides, I don't want you wrestling with unsaddling and saddling again.'  
  
She laughed. 'You forget I'm a farmer's daughter. I cut my teeth harnessing ponies.'  
  
He winced. 'Ooo, sounds painful.' She put the saddle bags down on the blanket and led the ponies away.  
  
When she returned, he had not yet unpacked the food. 'Aren't you hungry?' she asked him, concerned.  
  
'Ravenous,' he answered, patting the blanket next to him. 'Sit down, my love, rest your darling feet.' She sat and he plucked a blossom from her hair. 'Look,' he said. 'Even the trees think you're lovely.' He reached again, taking the combs from her hair so that the curls cascaded down around her shoulders.  
  
'You look just like the maid who came out of the barn, waving an apron at me, another spring ago.'  
  
She laughed. 'I'm an old hobbit lady, now, a matron with three children!'  
  
He smiled. 'Would you like to try for four?'  
  
'Pippin!'  
  
He kept smiling, stroking her wrist with gentle fingers. 'Do you remember our wedding vows? Somehow they came to me when I looked out on this beautiful day.'  
  
'O?' she said quietly.  
  
'...to seize each moment,' he said, 'to live to the fullest the love that's between us...'  
  
'Yes,' she whispered.  
  
'...to refuse no joy set before us...' he kissed her gently in the hollow of her neck. 'How'm I doing?' he murmured.  
  
'Ummmm,' she said.  
  
He continued softly, '...that each day might be a golden coin to add to the treasure trove of our love...' She reached up to put her arms around him, and there was no more need for words.  
  
***  
  
As the Thain and his lady rode back into the yard, Reginard came out to greet them. 'You two look like the cats that got into the cream.'  
  
'Lucky cats,' Pippin laughed. 'I hope they left some for us.'  
  
'Tea's just on,' his steward said. 'You've come in good time.'  
  
Pippin smiled at Diamond, 'You hear that, love? Not only did you get to stuff my face full of picnic food, but we're back in time for tea!'  
  
'O good,' Diamond said. 'My next-to-favourite pastime is stuffing your face full of food.'  
  
'And what's your favourite pastime?' her husband asked.  
  
She smiled a secret smile. 'That would be telling,' was all she said. 


	34. Farewell to Gondor

Chapter 34. Farewell to Gondor  
  
The Gamgees stayed through another New Year's Celebration, even grander than the last, and then the King said, 'I hate to see you go, but little Tolman is six months old now, old enough for the journey, I think.'  
  
'Good,' Sam said. 'That means I can be back in time to open the pony races at the Great Smials.'  
  
Elessar looked grave. 'The last message said that Pippin was holding his own,' he said. He shook his head. 'I wish there was some kind of cure I could be sending along with you.'  
  
'I wish I could get Pippin down here,' Sam said. 'Just the green of everything in this land is so refreshing...' He stopped suddenly, struck by a thought.  
  
The King's eyes narrowed. 'What is it, Sam?'  
  
'Fresh and green,' Sam mused aloud. He looked up suddenly. 'Strider, can you give me some bottles with tight stoppers, well padded for the journey?'  
  
'That would be easy enough,' Elessar said. 'What would you want them for?'  
  
'It's an idea I have. If it works out, I'll tell you about it sometime,' Sam said. He waited while the well-wrapped bottles were procured and added to the luggage on the pack horse.  
  
'We cannot give you enough thanks for your hospitality,' Sam said.  
  
'You are welcome to come back anytime you can tear yourself away from the Shire,' Elessar smiled. He knelt to give each of the hobbits a hug, then bowed once more to Sam.  
  
'Ringbearer,' he said.  
  
Sam bowed back. 'Strider,' he answered with a grin. He turned to the tall Captain. 'We're ready,' he said.  
  
'Very well, Sir,' the guardsman said.  
  
'Take good care of them,' the King said. 'Give them a swift journey home.'  
  
'We'll do that, Majesty,' the Captain saluted.  
  
Queen Arwen hugged the hobbits. 'We'll see you soon,' she said. 'I've persuaded the King that we need to visit the Lake again this summer.'  
  
'O that's wonderful!' Rose exclaimed. Ellie nodded, her eyes shining, and Sam added his own affirmative.  
  
In the interests of swift travel, the hobbits again rode with guardsmen, for the shorter-legged ponies could go quite quickly when not bearing loads.  
  
As they set upon the journey again after two days in Edoras, to deliver Merry's bottle to Eomer and partake of the hospitality of Rohan, Sam turned to the Captain of the escort.  
  
'May we make a slight detour?' he said.  
  
'Of course, Sir, I am at your service,' the Captain answered, curious.  
  
'I would like to see Isengard,' Sam said. 'It would be a pity to pass so close and not have Rose and Ellie see it.'  
  
'Certainly, Sir,' the Captain said, and gave the signal to depart.  
  
When they came to Isengard, Rose and Ellie stared in wonder. The Ents had been very busy bringing beauty and verdure back into the valley, and two huge trees stood on either side of the rebuilt gate. A stumpy, broken-off tree stood there, as well, and Sam said to the Captain, 'I would like to get down here.'  
  
'Yes, Sir.' The Captain dismounted and lifted the hobbit down from the horse. Sam asked the Captain to unpack the precious bottles from the pack horse, and taking them, he marched up to the broken-off tree and said, 'Do you know where Treebeard is to be found?'  
  
The "tree" looked down at him with a booming Hooom Hummmm Hooom. 'You are a halfling,' it said in its deep voice.  
  
'Yes,' Sam said, 'and a hasty one at that. I need to talk to Treebeard right away.'  
  
The Ent, for that is what it was, picked him up. Startled, the Captain stepped forward, but the Ent put up a warning hand. 'Hoooom,' it said. 'I will take this little one to see Fangorn as he desires. It is the least I can do for one of the Ringbearers.'  
  
Sam wondered with a start how the creature had recognized him; he imagined all hobbits would look about the same to an Ent, though he, with his gardener's eye was easily able to distinguish between Ents. Perhaps the Ents, with their attention to detail, had noticed more than they appeared to see in their unhastiness.  
  
It didn't take long at the rate an Ent can stride for him to be greeting Treebeard, Fangorn himself. Treebeard also recognized Sam at once, favoring him with the slight bow that was all an Ent could manage.  
  
'Ringbearer,' he said. 'Hoooom. What can we do for you?'  
  
'Listen hard, I'm afraid I've got to be hasty,' Sam said. He went into the details of Pippin's illness, finishing up by saying, 'I know that Merry and Pippin told me they were healed of their orc-hurts after drinking Ent draughts. Do you think you might have something I could take back to him?'  
  
Treebeard hummed and hoooomed for what seemed an eternity to Sam, but was really quite a short time for an Ent. He extended a hand. 'I see you have brought containers with you,' he said.  
  
'Yes,' Sam nodded, holding out the bottles.  
  
'Wait here,' Treebeard boomed. 'I am being quite hasty, quite hasty indeed,' he said. 'I can hardly believe it. But I remember young Pippin. I remember him well. Hooom.' He strode away, and Sam waited in silence while his Ent escort stood like a stump. Gardening grows patience, and Sam spent the time looking about the forest, closely examining the Ent he had at hand, and speculating on various horticultural questions. Finally he heard Treebeard approaching, bearing the bottles now filled.  
  
'Hooom. I do not know if this will do any good, but it might,' he boomed. 'You gave me three bottles, I have filled all three. It would make a single meal for an Ent, but your people are smaller of course, so it might do. It might to at that.' He hummed a moment, then fixed one of his astounding eyes on Samwise. 'Do give my regards to those two young hobbits,' he said.  
  
'I will,' Samwise answered. 'Thank you.'  
  
'Hoom, hummm.' Treebeard answered, then said something humming and hooming to the Ent that bore Sam. It rumbled a reply and turned to take him quickly back to the waiting guardsmen.  
  
Rose was almost frantic at seeing his safe return, but held tightly to herself to avoid alarming Elanor. She was so grateful to see the Captain pack up the bottles and lift Sam to his saddle. Now they would be on their way home to the Shire, no more stop-offs or delays, she hoped.  
  
Elanor had simply been wide-eyed with wonder at seeing the Ents she'd only read about before in the Red Book. She wished she could travel the whole of Middle-earth, see all the sights there were to see. It was almost too bad to be returning to the Shire.  
  
Sam was quiet for a long time, thinking about the bottles that looked as if they held only water. It was a slim hope, he knew. But slim hopes are better than none.  
  
One night while they were camping, a great storm blew up. The Captain sent two guardsmen with the hobbits to the lea of a small hill while the rest packed up the baggage they'd unpacked to set up camp. While leading the packhorse to safety, there was a great crack above and a tree limb came down, killing the horse and scattering the contents of the pack it carried.  
  
After the storm blew over, all the members of the party gathered what they could salvage of the sopping baggage. The guardsmen built a fire to try to dry the blankets and clothing. The food was almost a total loss, and the Captain looked grim, but said, 'We can hunt for our food, there's game in the wild, and spring greens to gather. We can catch fish as we go, as well.'  
  
Sam looked down at little Tolman in his pack. 'Good thing his food is all provided for,' he said softly to Rose.  
  
She smiled weakly. 'I'm afraid this is just a bit more adventure than I was looking for,' she said.  
  
'We'll be home soon, Rosie, not more than a week now,' he said encouragingly. He turned at a sudden cry from Elanor. Face stricken, she was holding up the bag that had held the padded bottles. The bag was sodden, with rain, Sam hoped, but taking it from her he could feel the shifting of broken glass inside. Carefully opening the bag, he pulled out the contents. One of the bottles had been smashed to slivers, another badly cracked, the contents gone... the third remained miraculously intact in its wrappings. He sighed, hugging the bottle to him. 'We're still in business, Mr Pippin,' he murmured. 'Somebody's watching out for you, it seems.' 


	35. Unraveling

Chapter 35. Unraveling  
  
The Thain laid down the paper with the schedule for the pony races and stretched. 'So, we've got everything covered, then?' he asked.  
  
'I think so,' Ferdibrand answered, looking back through his notes. 'It ought to be the biggest ever. We've had to squeeze in extra heats, with all the entries we've received.'  
  
'I saw that,' Pippin said. 'Puts the final race after teatime.'  
  
'I don't think people will mind stretching out the celebration a bit,' Reginard said. 'But speaking of tea...' he looked meaningfully at the Thain's plate.  
  
'O you're right, Diamond will be back soon to check on these elevenses,' Pippin said, hastily dispensing with half the sandwich on his plate and washing it down with a swig of lukewarm tea.  
  
The wry face he made did not escape the attention of his steward. 'Here,' Regi said, picking up the kettle steaming on the hearth. 'Let me warm it up for you a bit.'  
  
'Not quite as good as fresh,' the Thain remarked, holding out his mug, 'but better than what I just had. Can you do anything about the food?'  
  
Regi just shook his head. The Thain had joked weeks ago that the food coming out of the kitchen had no taste, and his steward understood better Pippin's struggle to eat enough to keep himself going. A hobbit who couldn't taste his food... what would be the point of eating, then?  
  
As if guessing his thoughts, Pippin said softly, 'Ah, well, as long as *somebody* takes pleasure from it, I might as well keep eating. Diamond will be glad to see the plate clear.' He picked up the final bit of sandwich and popped it into his mouth.  
  
He choked, and suddenly was struggling for air. Regi was at his side immediately, slapping his back hard; the bit of food did not want to dislodge easily. Finally, it did, to everyone's relief, but the Thain went immediately into a violent coughing fit, until he was holding his ribs and gasping for air.  
  
'You all right, then?' Regi asked, and Pippin shook his head. 'Go get Woodruff,' Regi told Ferdi urgently. 'What is it?' the steward asked as he bent to the Thain.  
  
'Ribs... knife...' Pippin gasped. Regi nodded soberly. He'd heard of hobbits coughing hard enough to break a rib, but he desperately hoped the Thain was simply exaggerating the situation. For once, anyway.  
  
The healer came and made her examination. 'I do not think you've broken a rib,' she said finally, 'but you've pulled a muscle at the very least. Is it a stabbing pain?' The Thain nodded. 'With every breath?' she asked soberly, then shook her head. 'Not much to be done for it,' she said softly. 'It'll take time to heal.'  
  
Pippin nodded, straightened as well as he could. 'Just have to make the best of it,' he said. At Regi's quizzical look, he grinned weakly and said, 'Every pain is another breath. Think of the alternative.'  
  
'I think you ought to lie down, Sir,' Woodruff said. 'Try to get some rest.' He nodded, and Regi and Ferdi lifted him from his chair to the sofa, arranging him as comfortably as possible.  
  
Still hugging his ribs, he closed his eyes and sighed. 'Don't forget to wake me for tea,' he murmured. 'Hate to miss a meal, you know.'  
  
He slept through nooning, Woodruff insisting that rest was more important than food at the moment. Pippin awakened shortly before teatime, and at his insistence, Diamond brought Faramir and the twins to share tea before the study fire. Twins and jammy-bread made a riotous combination, bringing a smile to every face.  
  
Diamond tried to intercept little Ruby as she toddled towards her father, jam-smeared hands outstretched. 'No, love, we must wipe off the stickies before you kiss your Da!'  
  
Pippin stretched his arms to the wee lass. 'I *live* for sticky kisses!' he declared, and proceeded to prove his words. Little Merry joined the fray, and soon the Thain was needing the tender attentions of Diamond's dampened flannel as much as the twins.  
  
At a nod from the Thain, Regi and Ferdi lifted him down onto the rug before the fire. His breath came short, but he smiled on the twins as they cuddled close. 'How's about a story, then?' he said. They clamoured, and the steward smiled at the cosy sight of the Thain sprawled on the rug with his family. Pippin's next words made him frown with concern. 'A dwarf and an elf went a-journey in...' his voice trailed off and he hugged his ribs again. 'I think that Faramir is going to practice his storytelling on us today. Hurrah for Farry!'  
  
The twins hurrahed, mobbing their brother, knocking him backwards on the rug for a grand tickle. He came up spluttering, finally, laughing, 'And how am I to tell a story with you tickling the life out of me?' Diamond laughed and the Thain smiled. 'All right, then...' Faramir said, taking up where his father had left off. 'An elf and a dwarf went a-journey in the Wild. D'you remember their names, now?'  
  
He did a creditable job, spinning out the tale long enough for Ferdi to have to add wood to the fire, keeping the twins spellbound and quiet, hanging on every word. At the end, the Thain said, 'I might have to appoint you official storyteller, you know. Put you on salary.'  
  
'How much would I get?' Faramir asked consideringly.  
  
'O, not nearly as much as the Thain, but you could always work your way up,' Ferdi answered. 'Look at me, I'm chancellor already.'  
  
'Yes, you'll be a dishwasher in the kitchen before you know it, you keep on the way you're going,' Regi said acidly.  
  
'Ah, that would be too much to hope for, I fear,' Ferdi said, shaking his head sadly. 'But perhaps I might rise as high as stable-sweeper, d'you think?'  
  
The Thain nodded slowly. 'Perhaps,' he said judiciously. 'You'll have to work awfully hard, though.'  
  
***  
  
Pippin did not sleep well that night. It was hard to rest when every breath cut like a knife. He kept his pain to himself as much as possible, not wanting to worry Diamond. The healer had said it would heal, given time. Given time.  
  
He was up early the next morning, managing to put away half the breakfast on the tray before he had to push the rest away in disgust. The exercises that kept the muscles in the useless leg built up were more of a trial than usual; he kept being distracted by the knife in his ribs.  
  
He shook his head at second breakfast. 'No, Diamond, I'm fed up at the moment.' He was, in more ways than one. It was a relief when Regi interrupted the argument, having come with Ferdibrand to take him to the study for the day's work.  
  
The knife in the ribs made working harder, too, interrupting his concentration, making him short of temper, but Regi and Ferdi pretended not to notice. When elevenses came, he drank the tea but pushed the food away. To his relief, no one commented. Regi silently gave Ferdi half the contents of the plate and ate the other half himself, to spare the Thain his wife's ire.  
  
Pippin forced down as much of the nooning meal as he could manage. To his humiliation, Diamond had to cut the meat for him; the pain in his ribcage intensified when he tried to wield the knife himself. 'As if you didn't have enough cutting up to do for the twins,' he said.  
  
She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. 'Just another great babe for me to take care of,' she teased. 'Mother of four, I am, and it's soon to be five.'  
  
He didn't catch her meaning at first, then his eyes widened. 'You mean...?' he said joyfully. She nodded, and Regi and Ferdi tendered enthusiastic congratulations.  
  
Although they moved him to the sofa for his customary afternoon rest, he could not seem to find a comfortable position. The steward noted how he hugged his ribs, and when he'd made sure the Thain was settled as well as could be, he went in search of Woodruff.  
  
He quizzed the healer but came away unsatisfied. There was nothing to be done to give the Thain ease, only time could do that. He worried that the constant pain might upset the slim gains in health Pippin had made over the past year.  
  
His worries proved justified as he watched Pippin losing ground over the next few days. There came a day when the Thain refused even a bite of breakfast, and sent the healers away without exercising the bad leg. 'I think I'll take the day off,' he told his troubled wife. 'Don't worry about me, I'll be all the better for it on the morrow.'  
  
'All right, my love,' Diamond said, bending to kiss him. 'I've got to see to the twins now. You get a good rest.'  
  
She stopped the steward in the corridor. 'Regi,' she said, 'I think you ought to send for Merry now.'  
  
He nodded. 'I think you're right,' he said. He wanted to say something comforting, something to alleviate the fear in Diamond's eyes, but instead the truth forced its way out. 'The pain is wearing him down faster than he can fight it off.' He put a hand on her shoulder, then, in apology. 'It'll be all right, Diamond,' he said, trying to convince himself as well. 'He's fought worse than this before.'  
  
***  
  
Author's note: My mom always maintained that "unraveling" is not a proper word. Was she right? I tried "raveling" but it made me think too much of ravioli... and I am not in the mood for Italian food at the moment, having had it for lunch this day... anyway, if someone out there absolutely hates the title of this chapter, suggest a workable alternative, please, or else... just deal with it. (My, aren't we grumpy today? Can't help it... over in another author's story Pippin is being sorely afflicted and I have succumbed to Suffering Pippin Syndrome. Gonna go back and read the chapter entitled "Celebration" to work it out of my system. That's either Chapter 38 or 39, depending on whether you're going by the old or the new numbering.) 


	36. Out of Rope

Chapter 36. Out of Rope  
  
'Curse that Samwise and his promises,' Pippin said fretfully. Merry looked up, startled. He had never heard his cousin use such language towards anything but nuisances such as midges, flat beer, and orcs. 'Whyever did he make me part of his greeting committee?' His voice trailed off in a cough, and he weakly hugged his ribs as the knifelike pain assailed him with fresh vigour.  
  
Merry lifted him, held a cup of water to his lips, urged him to sip, but he turned his face away.  
  
'I'm tired, Merry,' he said. 'I'm out of rope.'  
  
'Tie a knot and hang on,' Merry whispered.  
  
'I did, but I've been holding on so long it's unraveled and I can't seem to take hold again,' Pippin murmured. 'I'm tired, Merry. Let me go. Please, let me go.'  
  
'I'm not ready,' Merry said, heart wrung with fear and pity. 'Hold on just a bit longer, Pip. Don't leave me.'  
  
'I'll try,' Pippin said, and closed his eyes again.  
  
There was a soft knock, and Reginard came in, a paper in his hand. 'Pony post just came in for you,' he said. 'The steward...' He looked down at the Thain, who was apparently asleep.  
  
Merry was puzzled. Reginard was steward in Tookland, what was he talking about?  
  
'*Your* steward,' Reginard said, 'Sorry, I'm that short on sleep I'm not making sense. There's been an accident at the Hall.'  
  
'What's happened to Berilac?' Merry said, reaching for the paper.  
  
He read the hastily scrawled note and rose abruptly from the bed.  
  
'What is it?' Regi asked quietly.  
  
'A toddler wandered into a bull pen while his mother's back was turned, Berilac jumped in to save him from the bull, threw the toddler to safety but couldn't get out in time himself,' Merry said. 'They don't know yet if he'll live.' He closed his eyes, sick. Was he to lose two cousins at once, then?  
  
Regi put a hand on his arm. 'I'll get a pony ready for you.'  
  
Merry took hold of himself with a deep breath, opened his eyes and nodded. 'Right. I'll be back just as soon as I can.' The steward nodded and left the room.  
  
Merry bent again to the bed. 'Pippin?'  
  
The eyes opened. 'I heard,' he said. 'Give my best to Berilac.'  
  
'Hold on, Pippin,' Merry said. 'I'll be back soon. And Samwise is coming, the last message said he was leaving Gondor at the end of March and here it is nearly the end of May already.'  
  
'Probably stopped off somewhere to plant some trees,' Pippin said.  
  
Merry took his hand. 'Wait for me,' he said. 'I'll be back.'  
  
Pippin looked away. 'So now *you* want to put me on *your* greeting committee.' Merry squeezed the hand gently, and Pippin looked back at him. 'O all right. I'll try. It's all I can promise.'  
  
Outside in the corridor, Merry saw Regi's haunted face. The steward shook his head. 'I've hung on to him so hard, for so long,' he said, 'but I'm ready to let him go now.' He swallowed hard. 'The price he's paying is too high.'  
  
Merry put a hand on his shoulder in wordless misery.  
  
The steward got hold of himself and looked up again. 'If you come back in time for the pony races next week, you can see me in as Thain. We'll probably have the memorial at the same time.'  
  
'I plan to be back well before next week. As early as tomorrow, I hope,' Merry said. 'Berilac's tougher than any bull, he might not be as bad as the first report says.' He gripped the steward's shoulder tightly. 'He's not buried yet,' Merry said. 'Don't give up, Reg.'  
  
The steward shook his head. 'I've no hope left, Merry. It's all used up. Samwise, if he ever does come, will be too late. I cannot bear to watch this any longer. It'll be a relief to see him off.'  
  
Merry looked in on Diamond as he was leaving to go back to Brandy Hall. She was with Healer Woodruff, who was shaking her head sadly. 'I cannot give him anything for the pain, Mistress. He gets little enough breath as it is.'  
  
'Is there nothing to be done?' Diamond asked.  
  
'We're making him as comfortable as we can. There's not much time left.'  
  
Diamond looked up to see Merry.  
  
'I'll be back just as soon as I can,' he promised. She nodded, putting her handkerchief to her face. He gave her a gentle hug and slipped out the door.  
  
The solitary ride back to Buckland was refreshing; he was free to weep and rail in his frustration, with no ears to hear but his pony's.  
  
He arrived at the Ferry to see a crowd on the other bank. How had they known to expect him? As the Ferry approached, he saw the young Gamgees, all crowding about three cloaked figures holding dusty ponies. Hardly daring to believe his eyes, he called, 'Samwise?' and one of the figures turned to grin at him.  
  
He jumped from the Ferry to race to Sam, pounding him on the back. 'You don't know how glad I am to see you!' he cried.  
  
'Why, Merry, I didn't know you cared so,' Sam laughed.  
  
Merry shook his head urgently. 'Pippin's sinking fast,' he said. 'You might already be too late.'  
  
Sam stared in shock. 'The last message we got said he was holding his own, even better than that.'  
  
'He took a turn for the worse, went downhill suddenly. Nothing worked. The Tooks have given up hope,' Merry said. 'Did you get something from Strider?'  
  
'Not quite,' Sam said cryptically. 'Let's get going, right away.' He saw Merry hesitate. 'What?'  
  
'Berilac,' Merry began, but Estella intercepted him.  
  
'He took a bad blow to the head,' she said. 'At first the healers thought... but his head is harder than it looks, apparently.'  
  
'I could have told them that,' Merry said.  
  
'He's got broken legs and a broken arm and bruises head to toe,' Estella said bluntly, 'but he's going to live. That's more than you can say for the bull, Merimas had him slaughtered. So go back to Pippin. He needs you more than Berilac at the moment.'  
  
'I'm coming too,' said Rose, and Merry turned to see she was looking hale and hearty, little Tolman carried before her in a kind of pack.  
  
'Wouldn't you like to rest, come along with the rest of us in the coaches?' Estella asked.  
  
'I've ridden the length of Middle-earth and back again, horse-back and pony- back, and the saddle has grown as cosy to me as my rocking chair back home,' Rose said stoutly. 'Maybe more.' She looked down at the babe in his carrier. 'Let me just get this lad a change of diaper and myself a drink of water and we'll be off.' She considered. 'On second thought, let me just change him and we'll be off. I can drink in the saddle.' She thought to herself, if Pippin were that bad off, Sam was going to need her support, if things did not go well.  
  
'Saddle three post ponies!' Merry shouted. A stable lad waved from the door of the stables and disappeared. Rose went into the Hall with Estella, coming out soon with a chortling Tolman, dry and happy and ready to go.  
  
Stable lads came out with three fast ponies. Merry kissed Estella. 'We'll see you when you get to the Smials.'  
  
She nodded. 'Hurry,' she said. 'We'll be along as quick as we can pack everyone up.' There was a chorus of goodbyes from the Gamgee children as Merry, Sam and Rose led the post ponies down to the waiting Ferry. As soon as they'd crossed the great River, they were off at a gallop, and the sound of Merry's silver horn drifted back to the Hall. 


	37. The Proof is In

Chapter 37. The Proof is in...  
  
'It's good to see you,' Pippin said to Rose and Samwise. 'You made it back in time for the pony races... or are you off to Southfarthing next week?'  
  
'No, we came for the pony races,' Sam said. Rose kissed the Thain gently on his cheek and left the room, not daring to stay any longer. Her eyes brimmed over and a handkerchief appeared silently before her. She looked up to see the steward of Tookland.  
  
'I'm glad you're back,' he said softly. 'The Thain very much wanted to see you again. He wasn't sure he'd be able to, you know.'  
  
'I know,' she said brokenly. He gave her a hug, then went past her into the Thain's room.  
  
'Well, what kind of presents have you brought me?' Pippin said weakly. 'Did you give my greetings to everyone?'  
  
'Everyone who asked about you,' Sam said. 'Not too many. They seemed more interested in that Ernil i Pheriannath fellow, whoever he might be.'  
  
'Ah,' said the Thain.  
  
Sam made a great show of remembering. 'O yes, I did bring you back a little somewhat,' he said. He brought out the precious bottle.  
  
'What's that, then?' Pippin asked. 'It's the wrong colour to be some of the Hall's finest.'  
  
'It's a bit of cheer I picked up along the way,' Sam said. 'Supposed to be very rare and special. Would you like to try some?'  
  
'What does it taste like?' the Thain asked.  
  
'I don't know, I haven't tried it,' Sam said. 'I thought I'd let you taste it first, so if it was bad I'd be forewarned.'  
  
'Everything tastes like mud, anyhow,' Pippin said. 'The cooks have lost their touch. What doesn't taste like mud tastes like dust and ashes.'  
  
'Then eat dust and ashes,' Sam said darkly. 'At least it would be something.'  
  
The Thain sighed, 'O aye,' he said. 'It's the same old story. I hear it from everyone.'  
  
The Mayor filled a glass with the precious liquid. Healer Woodruff intercepted it as Sam passed it to the Thain. She took a sip.  
  
'What, do you think the Mayor would poison the Thain?' Pippin joked.  
  
'Perhaps I could hope to become Thain, with you out of the way,' Sam answered, 'but I'd have to get rid of Regi and Ferdi and a lot of other Tooks as well. Too much trouble, I'll just keep on as Mayor, thank you very much.'  
  
Woodruff raised her eyebrows. 'Tastes like water,' she said. '...but wait...there's something else to it.'  
  
She passed the cup to the Thain, who sipped. 'I know this...' he said reflectively. He drank again, then looked to Sam. 'Ent draught?' he said in wonder. 'Wherever did you get this?'  
  
'Wherever do you think?' Sam answered. 'Took a little side trip to Isengard, gave your regards to Treebeard.'  
  
Samwise steadied the glass as Pippin took another swallow. The Thain looked up with a frown. 'It is, but it isn't,' he said.  
  
'Isn't what?' Sam asked.  
  
'I'd swear it isn't the same as I had before, even though it's been so long. There were different kinds of Ent draughts that Treebeard gave Merry and me. This is yet another.'  
  
Sam urged him to drink again, helping him lift the glass. 'I told Treebeard about your illness. Perhaps he cooked up something special just for you.'  
  
'He's a good cook, then,' Pippin murmured. 'This is the first thing that hasn't tasted of mud or ashes in weeks.'  
  
Regi reached a hand out as if to take a taste, but Sam intercepted him. 'I don't know how much it takes; Treebeard didn't know. He sent three bottles, but only one survived the trip.'  
  
'Drink up, then,' Regi said to Pippin.  
  
Pippin twinkled. 'I might become the tallest Thain in history.'  
  
'You are the tallest Thain in history,' Ferdibrand said.  
  
'Well, then, I'll beat my own record,' Pippin answered. He finished the glass, and Sam poured another. After drinking the second, he said, 'That's enough for now. I don't know if I could keep it down, should I have any more.' Sam nodded soberly.  
  
'What do you feel?' Healer Woodruff asked curiously.  
  
'Tingling,' Pippin said. 'I recognize the stuff. It sends a tingle from your toes up through your body, all the way to your hair. It's almost as if I can feel my hair stretching and curling and growing.'  
  
'Tingling... even in the bad leg?'  
  
Pippin was quiet a moment, as if listening to his body. 'Yes,' he said slowly. 'There's even some tingling there. I'd forgotten how it feels.'  
  
'Can you move the leg?' Woodruff pressed.  
  
Pippin tried, but could do no more than twitch his toes, all he'd been able to do since the accident. 'No,' he said. 'It's no better.' He smiled at Diamond then, reassuringly. 'But it's no worse, either.'  
  
He looked at Sam. 'Put the bottle away in a safe place. Perhaps we can try some more tomorrow.' His face showed again his weariness; the temporary lift provided by the Ent draught had evaporated. 'I think I can sleep now.' He cocked a mischievous eye at Sam. 'Better get a good rest yourself, Mayor. There'll be quite a welcome feast tomorrow, you know. Hopefully the kitchen will turn out something other than dust and ashes.'  
  
His eyes were already closing as the steward shooed them out of the room. 


	38. The Tasting of the Pudding

Chapter 38. ...the Tasting of the Pudding  
  
Diamond awakened to the bed shaking. Thinking her husband gripped in the old nightmare, she rolled over and sat up, only to find his eyes open. He had pulled the bad leg up and was gripping it tightly.  
  
'What is it, love?' she asked.  
  
'Hurts,' he gasped, and she saw blood on his lip where he had bitten it. She rose, but he grabbed her arm. 'Don't go...'  
  
She settled back to the bed. 'I need to get the healer,' she said, but he was beyond reason.  
  
Raising her voice, hoping she would not waken the twins, she called, 'Farry! Faramir!' Her son did not appear, but the twins' nurse did, wrapper hastily pulled on, hair loose upon her shoulders.  
  
'What is it, Mistress?'  
  
'Get Healer Woodruff, quickly, then waken the Mayor and the Master. Something's wrong with the Thain.'  
  
'Yes, Mum,' the nurse said and was gone.  
  
It seemed like an eternity, but Healer Woodruff was there quickly. She looked beautiful to Diamond, with her hair wild from sleep and pillow- creased cheek.  
  
'What do we have here?' she said, and her calm was an anchor to cling to. 'Thain Peregrin, can you hear me?'  
  
A wordless groan came in answer.  
  
'Talk to me, Sir, tell me what is happening.'  
  
'Afire...' he gritted. 'Feels as if I'm being roasted alive by orcs.' Sweat beaded on his forehead. The healer examined him as well as she could, but could not get him to straighten the leg, knotted and tightly contracted by muscle spasms.  
  
'Can't you give him something?' Diamond was saying as the door swung open to admit Sam and Merry.  
  
Woodruff shook her head. 'No, not with this kind of pain. It's nerve pain, nothing will touch it. I'd have to give him enough to knock him out, and that could stop his heart in the state he's in.'  
  
'That might be an improvement,' Pippin gritted before another agonising spasm robbed him of speech.  
  
The healer made a decision. 'Build up the fire,' she directed Sam. 'Fill the kettle with water, get it hot,' she told Merry. She turned to the frightened nurse. 'I want a basin and clean cloths, quickly!' All scattered to do her bidding.  
  
'Talk to him,' she said to Diamond. 'It may do some good. Sing... something.'  
  
Diamond began to croon a lullaby, her voice catching in her throat. Sam soon had the fire burning vigorously, and Merry put the kettle on and came back to put his hands gently on Diamond's shoulders. Sam stood aghast on the other side of the bed, staring down at Pippin.  
  
'Sam?' Diamond asked as she came to the end of the song. 'Samwise, are you all right?'  
  
He shook his head. 'In the name of all that's good,' he breathed. 'What have I done?'  
  
The healer poured the steaming water into the basin, adding the cloths. 'This is something I've used in the muscle sickness, to ease the spasms,' she said. 'It might help here.' She took up a hot cloth, nearly scalding her fingertips, and began to wrap it around the leg. She repeated it until she had the entire leg wrapped in hot cloths, from groin to toes. 'Put more water on to heat,' she said.  
  
'You'll burn him,' Diamond protested.  
  
The healer chuckled without humour. 'He's already burning, he says... we'll fight fire with fire.' She looked up. 'Don't worry, Mistress, I'm being careful. If it's cool enough for my fingers, it won't burn him.'  
  
As the cloths cooled, she replaced them with fresh ones. 'Keep singing,' she said to Diamond. 'Talk to him. Distract him.' Though her husband's moans tore at her heart, she complied, singing snatches of old songs as they came into her head.  
  
Sam kept the fire bright, Merry topped off the water, Diamond held her husband and sang to him, the healer replenished the cloths, trying to keep them as hot as possible. Diamond did not know how long they fought, but eventually she thought the spasms might be easing slightly. The healer was gradually able to straighten the leg, but continued to apply the hot cloths.  
  
Near dawn, the spasms eased yet more, then ceased, and the Thain fell into a heavy sleep.  
  
Woodruff turned to Diamond. 'I think we should take the leg now, whilst he's sleeping,' she said soberly.  
  
'Take the--' Diamond gasped. 'You mean... off?'  
  
The healer nodded. 'Aye.' She looked down at her patient, then back to his wife. 'I don't know that he could survive another night like the last.'  
  
Diamond's thoughts were awhirl. She looked down into her husband's sleeping face, still etched with pain and exhaustion, but the thought of facing Pippin when he awakened made her hesitate. It seemed too much of a betrayal to her.  
  
She shook her head, gaining firmness. 'No,' she said. 'No, I won't do that to him. It's his leg; it's his decision to make.'  
  
'Very well, my lady,' Healer Woodruff said softly. 'I will abide by your decision.' She turned to the Mayor and the Master. 'You might as well go get some rest now,' she said. 'He'll sleep awhile, I think. I will let you know if there's any change.'  
  
They took turns watching with him throughout the day, but he didn't waken. When the time for the evening meal came, Healer Woodruff escorted Diamond from the room. 'Go get yourself a proper dinner, Mistress,' she said. 'I'll sit with him until you're done. You've had no rest this day.'  
  
Diamond was reluctant to leave, but the healer insisted.  
  
The mood in the great room was subdued. Even the young Gamgees had little to say. They had awakened that morning to the unimaginable sound of their father weeping. Creeping from their beds, they saw his face buried in Rose's shoulder while she soothed him, trying to comfort a pain that could not be comforted. Mayor Sam acted more as if he were at a burial feast than a celebration welcoming the Mayor and his Mistress back to the Shire.  
  
Halfway through the silent meal, Diamond looked up to see the Mayor and the Master staring in shock at something behind her. Hearing steps, she turned. Pippin walked up to her with a broad smile and a bounce in his step. Pippin... walked?  
  
'Hullo, everyone, sorry I'm late,' he grinned. 'I seem to have overslept myself.' Pulling out his chair, he seated himself next to Diamond. 'What's for dinner? I'm starved!' He took in the juicy roast, puffed pudding, fluffy potatoes roasted in their jackets, accompanying breads and salads and vegetables and fruit compote, and his eyes sparkled. 'A veritable feast!' he said, rubbing his hands together as a servant placed a loaded plate before him.  
  
He looked up. 'What's everybody staring at?' he asked, mischief dancing in his eyes. 'Eat! Before all this marvelous food gets cold!' He suited word to action, cutting off a piece of succulent flesh and stuffing it in his mouth, closing his eyes in rapture. 'Mmmmm,' he said. 'Seems as if the cooks have finally got things right.' 


	39. Shire Celebration

Chapter 39. Celebration  
  
A running, swirling, spinning whirl of hobbits covered the field next to the Smials in a glorious game of chase. The Thain swooped down upon young Bilbo Gamgee, catching him up, tossing him high into the air before placing him on his shoulders.  
  
'Lookit me! Lookit me!' crowed the tiny hobbit. 'I'm riding on an eagle!'  
  
Little Saradoc Brandybuck pushed against his mother. 'Want down!' he demanded, kicking his legs.  
  
'All right,' Estella said, laughing, putting him down and watching him toddle into the middle of the game. She held her breath until the tiny lad was swooped up by young Frodo Gamgee and carried about in high glee.  
  
'Eagles!' the Thain shouted. 'We need more eagles, quick, before Gandalf and the dwarves are roasted! I've got the burglar!'  
  
Reginard, Ferdibrand, Meliloc, Samwise, and Merry each pounced to take up a small hobbit, running in circles with their burdens until all collapsed in a laughing heap where the Thain designated the eyrie to be. Suddenly Pippin called out, 'The burglar's perishing from hunger! Who wants some lovely fresh-caught coney?'  
  
At a general groan from the children, he said, 'But that's the way eagles like it! Fresh caught and still warm!' The moans continued, and he said, 'O all right, then, who would rather have seed cake and jam tart?' There was a chorus of cheers, and he added, 'Into the Smials then! 'Tis time for tea!'  
  
'How about apple tart?' Merry asked.  
  
'For you, anything, cousin! As long as you don't eat up all the seedcake before I get some!' the Thain laughed. They walked into the Smials, shooing the children before them.  
  
'I can't see anything at all wrong with you, Sir,' Woodruff said as the Thain came up to the watchers at the entrance. She'd examined him after dinner last night, finding the leg as sound as if it were new made. His lungs, too, were healed. For the first time since the pneumonia had nearly killed him, not long after he came of age, he was taking more than half breaths. 'Whatever do you need a healer for?' she added with a smile.  
  
'I don't!' Pippin said smugly. 'You're out of a job.' He grinned. 'On second thought, you may stick around. We might still need you to tend the occasional scraped knee or birthing.'  
  
Estella caught the look he gave Diamond and gasped. 'Really?'  
  
'Aye,' Diamond said with a grin of her own. She was showered with congratulations.  
  
Pippin snaked his arm around her and modulated his long strides to accommodate hers. 'And what would my lovely wife like this day for her tea?' he murmured.  
  
'I can't think of a single thing,' she answered, nestling against him. 'I've everything I ever wanted.'  
  
***  
  
The hilarity continued at the tea table, led by the mischievous Thain. He asked all sorts of absurd and ridiculous questions about the Mayor's journey to Gondor and kept the children laughing with his wide-eyed credulity.  
  
'Walking trees! You're putting me on,' he said. 'Trees don't walk, not unless you cut one down and set half a hundred hobbits to carry it!'  
  
'O, they walk all right,' the Mayor said placidly, taking another bite of his jam tart.  
  
'I don't believe it!' the Thain snorted. 'Next you'll be telling me that elves and dwarves walk about together in great friendship, and play at Frogs together.'  
  
'Well,' Sam said, 'I hate to disillusion you, but...'  
  
'And did you have to go all the way to Gondor to get a babe?' Pippin broke in. 'Seems as if there's plenty here in the Shire to go around.'  
  
Sam dissolved in helpless laughter, and the Gamgee children gave a shout.  
  
'What's the Mayor doing here, anyhow?' the Thain demanded. 'I thought he'd be down in Southfarthing, to open the Strawberry Festival.'  
  
'They moved the Southfarthing Strawberry Festival to the Fourth of June,' Rose answered. 'Seems as if the Mayor's tied up on the First. They have some pony races at the Great Smials, you know.'  
  
'O really?' the Thain said, interested. 'I didn't know that. Perhaps we'll go to the pony races this year then, what do you think, little wife?'  
  
'I think you need to eat this last piece of seedcake before anyone else does,' Diamond smiled.  
  
'My wife is a wonder, she truly is,' Pippin informed all the other hobbits. 'She always knows just what's best for me.' He took a large bite of his seedcake and smiled at Diamond. 'Think there's any more where this came from?'  
  
'If there's not, I'll just tell the cooks to make more,' she said.  
  
***  
  
Race day dawned bright and promising, and the crowds were about early, hobbits seeking for the best vantage points on the hills surrounding the course.  
  
'Good thing we've got front seats already reserved,' Pippin said. He smiled at Diamond. 'Ready?'  
  
'Quite,' the Mistress nodded.  
  
They mounted their ponies and walked decorously to the racecourse, where Mayor Samwise waited to open the festivities.  
  
Swinging down, Pippin went to help his wife from the saddle, and silence fell as the two walked up to the Mayor. As the hobbits realized that their Thain was walking without prop or stick, the cheers began to swell into a deafening roar as they reached the Mayor's side.  
  
'Lookee there, Violet,' the Thain said in perfect imitation of a farmer's drawl. 'Looks as if the Thain's growed hisself some new legs! Wonder wot 'e's usin' for fertiliser!'  
  
The Mayor was convulsed with laughter, but managed to take himself in hand. He raised his arms for silence, and the cheers gradually died. 'Ladies and gentlehobbits...!' he cried. Surely this was the most joyous celebration he'd opened in a long time. 


	40. Miracles

Chapter 40. Miracles  
  
Berilac became gradually aware of a pleasant baritone voice humming an old song. It sounded vaguely familiar, but of course, it couldn't be... He lay awhile longer, listening in silence, trying to figure out whose the voice could be. Finally he felt awake enough to open his eyes, to see...  
  
'Pippin!'  
  
'Aye,' the singer smiled, breaking off the song.  
  
'How can you be...? You're supposed to be dead!'  
  
The Thain's smile brightened. 'Am I now?' he asked.  
  
'That's what I'd heard,' Berilac muttered, confused.  
  
Pippin nodded. 'Ah, they forgot to tell me.' He stretched. 'Happens all the time. Who told you that?'  
  
Berilac thought back through the fog of the past few days. 'I don't know,' he said, finally. 'Someone sitting with me, must have been. I was asking where Merry was, and they said he'd be back after your burial.'  
  
'He'll be away a long time, then, I hope,' Pippin said cheerily. '...and how are you feeling, this fine day?'  
  
'Fine, is it?' Berilac said grumpily. 'How do you think I'm feeling?'  
  
'About the same as you look, I'd imagine. You want to take a firm hand when you go dancing with a bull, or he'll trample all over you.'  
  
'What would you know about it?' Berilac said irritably.  
  
Pippin grinned. 'Ah, I had a dance with a troll once. Terrible fellow, no sense of rhythm at all. A bit like a bull, I'd imagine.'  
  
Berilac closed his eyes and sighed. About the last thing he wanted right now was Pippin's relentless cheer.  
  
'So when's the burial?' he muttered.  
  
'No burials today... someone's misplaced all the shovels.'  
  
Berilac took a deep breath. 'That's a mercy... I think.' The ache in his bones reminded him why he hadn't wanted to waken in the first place.  
  
'Do you think you could eat something?' Pippin said softly.  
  
'Hah! That's a joke, coming from you.' Berilac answered.  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'It is, indeed.' Berilac opened his eyes, and Pippin lifted him carefully, placing pillows at his back to prop him up enough to eat.  
  
'Good thing your eating hand was spared,' the Thain said, 'but save your strength for healing. Let me do the honours.'  
  
'I hope it's not broth,' Berilac said. 'I'm sick of it.'  
  
'Are you now?' Pippin said brightly. 'I can imagine.' He patted the other on his good shoulder. 'I'll see what I can do.'  
  
He was gone some little while, coming back finally with a steaming bowl of hearty stew and some crusty bread. 'Will this do?' he asked.  
  
Berilac's mouth was watering at the smell. 'For starters,' he answered. Pippin spooned the stew into him, with the occasional chunk of bread, making quiet conversation.  
  
When he'd finished it all, he sighed. 'That was good,' he said. 'Much better than broth.'  
  
Pippin reached to the table by the bed to pick up a half glass of brandy. 'Here's a little after-dinner cheer.'  
  
Berilac shook his head. 'I don't want it,' he said. 'It's got that powder in it, hasn't it?'  
  
'Yes,' Pippin said. 'You've got to be feeling rather rotten at the moment.'  
  
'It muddles my head too much,' Berilac said.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I'd take it, if I were you,' he urged softly. 'I heard the healers talking; they're going to cut you off soon enough, before you start wanting the stuff. Might as well sleep while you may, get as much healing in as you can.'  
  
Berilac hesitated, and Pippin pressed his argument. 'Besides, if you leave a glass of the Hall's finest lying about, somebody might come along and drink it, someone from Tookland, for example, who doesn't get it every day, and that powder wouldn't be good for him, you know.'  
  
Berilac smiled in spite of himself. 'Go on with you,' he said. 'Ridiculous as you ever were.'  
  
'Thanks. Nicest thing anybody's said to me all day.' Pippin steadied the glass while he got the brandy down, then settled him back as comfortably as he could to wait for sleep to come.  
  
Berilac was starting to drift away, but forced one eye open.  
  
'You really are well,' he said suddenly. 'What's happened to you?'  
  
Pippin smiled, his eyes reflecting Berilac's wonder. 'I had my own little miracle,' he said softly. 


	41. Restoration

Chapter 41. Restoration  
  
The Thain returned to Buckland in July, and again in August. On the latter visit, he brought Faramir along. Regretfully, Diamond stayed in Tuckborough at her husband's and the healers' insistence, her feet firmly planted on a stool whilst everyone in the Smials waited on her slightest wish.  
  
Pippin found Berilac that August day sitting in a chair beneath a shady tree, sipping a cool drink as he watched young Brandybucks cavorting in the shallows of the River.  
  
'Good to see you out and about,' he said, settling next to the steward and laying his Stick down upon the ground. Berilac wondered if he'd had a sudden relapse, but wasn't going to be the first to bring it up. It wasn't long before a deferential servant brought the Thain his own refreshing drink.  
  
'Well, I'm out, anyhow,' Berilac answered. 'Not quite about.'  
  
Pippin nodded. 'I remember when I broke my own leg,' he said reflectively. 'Bad break, had to learn to walk all over again. Faramir was just a toddler at the time; he was walking better than his old Da for quite awhile. Seemed to think it a fine jest.'  
  
They sipped in silence. Berilac sat up a little straighter when a tiny hobbit got too far out of his depth, relaxing when a larger cousin hauled the little one back into the shallow water and administered a scolding.  
  
'What were you going to do, then?' Pippin asked, amused. 'Crawl over there to save him?'  
  
'No,' Berilac answered. 'I was going to tip you out of your chair and send you along.'  
  
'Good thinking.'  
  
Berilac said suddenly. 'Is that Faramir? You brought the family?'  
  
'Not the whole family, just the lad. Diamond's back at home being spoiled rotten, don't know how I'll be able to live with her when I get back.'  
  
Berilac smiled. The Thain did quite a bit of his own spoiling.  
  
'We're heading up to Lake Evandim for a few weeks at the behest of the King,' the Thain said. 'Brandy Hall seemed a good stopping place to spend the night before meeting the King's escort on the morrow.'  
  
'Ah,' Berilac said. He was quiet awhile, then sighed. 'Learn to walk all over again...'  
  
'O yes,' the Thain said, 'I nearly forgot.' He picked up the Stick, extending it to the steward. 'Thought you might like this to go on with. You'll probably have to start out with two sticks, of course, but I think Merry's about done carving the other, and you'll be ready to try them soon enough.'  
  
'I don't know what to say,' Berilac began.  
  
Pippin laughed. 'That's usually a good clue that there's nothing needed.' He rose, clapped Berilac on the back, said, 'Good to see you on the mend.'  
  
***  
  
At early breakfast, Estella admired the Thain's guardsman's uniform. 'My, but you look handsome, cousin,' she said, then pouted, walking her fingers along her husband's arm. 'I cannot think the last time my beloved wore his mail.'  
  
Merry laughed down at her. 'That is because it is too tight, my dear, from the way you have stuffed food into me all these years.'  
  
She looked up at him consideringly. 'I may have to change my ways,' she mused.  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'Just get out from behind that desk a bit more,' he said.  
  
Estella nodded firmly. 'That's what the healers have been telling him.'  
  
The Thain sat a bit straighter, like a hound coming to the point. 'Healers?' he said quietly.  
  
Merry was annoyed. 'I'm fine,' he answered. 'My wife has too much time on her hands; she looks for ways to plague me.'  
  
Pippin nodded to himself. He knew Merry's "fine" very well, it was similar to his own.  
  
Estella was not to be put off, she had Pippin here to reinforce her and she was going to take every advantage she could. 'Your father's heart nearly gave out on him when he was only a bit older than you are now,' she said. 'You do not take enough care of yourself; someone has to!' Her voice became coaxing. 'I wish you would change your mind and take a holiday, go to the Lake with Pippin.'  
  
Merry lay a quelling hand on hers. 'With Berilac out injured, there's too much work for me to take any time off right now.' He smiled. 'We'll take a holiday when my steward is back on his feet, or after the harvest, whichever comes first.'  
  
Estella subsided, but the anxiety did not leave her eyes, Pippin noticed. He harrumphed, sticking out his chest and blinking near-sightedly. All eyes turned to him. 'I prescribe Healer Took's Rules for Living,' he said pompously. He held up his hand, forefinger and thumb forming a letter "L". 'Long walks, Less worry, Love your wife. Quite simple, really. Lengthen your Life and make it more enjoyable in the bargain.'  
  
'Thank you, Healer Took,' Merry said dryly.  
  
Pippin held out his hand. 'That will be one silver penny,' he said ponderously, 'or two chickens.'  
  
Merry dug into a pocket and brought out a silver penny, handing it to the Thain. 'I ought to give you the two chickens,' he laughed. 'Like to see what you'd do with them!'  
  
Pippin patted his surcoat, frowning. 'Hmmm, that's the problem with wearing mail; no pockets.' He tossed the coin to Faramir. 'Here, keep this in a safe place, there's plenty more where that came from.' He smiled at Merry as the latter choked on his tea. 'Another serving of that excellent sausage, please?'  
  
'That's your fifth,' Merry muttered.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I'm making up for lost time,' he said. 'I cannot get over food that tastes like food again.'  
  
'That mail won't fit for long at the rate you're going,' Merimas laughed.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'O, I have a long way to go, yet,' he said quietly.  
  
Merry sobered slightly, thinking how close they'd come to losing him, covered his feelings by quipping, 'No, he burns it all off. I don't think you've stopped moving since the cure.'  
  
Pippin twinkled at Faramir. 'I've missed a lot,' he said, then repeated softly, 'Got a lot of lost time to make up.' 


	42. One Steward to Another

Chapter 42. One Steward to Another  
  
The Thain sought out the steward of Buckland, who was still abed. 'You're lying in, I see. Living in the lap of luxury.'  
  
'No one's come to get me yet,' Berilac said grumpily. 'I could starve to death waiting.'  
  
'You haven't had breakfast yet?' Pippin, said, shocked.  
  
'O, breakfast has come and gone, on a tray, how else did you think I got dressed?' the steward said. 'But if they happen to forget about me from this point on I might starve to death here in my room.'  
  
'So what happens to you now?' Pippin asked.  
  
'When they're done with whatever it is they do after breakfast, someone will come to get me, take me to the library and give me a book or sit me under a tree. I feel about as useless as an old boot.'  
  
'Or a new boot, for that matter, in these parts,' Pippin laughed. 'You might as well be sitting behind a desk, doing something useful.'  
  
'Don't I know it,' Berilac muttered. 'They've only let me out of bed at all in the past few days.'  
  
Pippin looked keenly at him. 'Merry's overdoing, you know. Estella's worried about him.'  
  
'He's looked tired the last few times I've seen him. But will he listen to me?'  
  
'Hah. He never listened to me, either, when I was his steward, before the Tooks carried me off to become Thain. We stewards of Buckland have got to stick together.' He patted the other on the shoulder. 'I'll be back soon.'  
  
'Don't you have an escort to be meeting?'  
  
Pippin laughed. 'I'm a Prince of the Halflings. They'll wait.' He lowered his voice. 'Faramir and I are just aching for a good gallop along to the Bridge, won't we have a fine excuse if we leave late?' He nodded and repeated, 'I'll be right back.'  
  
He came back with two younger Brandybuck cousins. 'All right, you lot, the steward needs to be taken to the Master's study and ensconced behind the Master's desk before the Master gets back.'  
  
'Gets back?' Berilac asked as they lifted him.  
  
Pippin said behind his hand, 'I sent him on a little errand.' He looked sternly at the steward. 'Now, once you've got that chair, don't you give it up until he's had a long walk with his wife.' He turned the stern look on the Brandybuck cousins. 'And you come and get the steward *first thing* after breakfast, you hear? No more of this letting him loll about his bed half the day; he's got work to do!'  
  
Pippin followed them down the corridor to the Master's study, and watched while Berilac was settled behind the desk. 'Comfy?' he said.  
  
'No,' Berilac answered honestly. 'But then, nowhere is.'  
  
'Might as well be useful whilst being uncomfortable, then.'  
  
'You have a point,' the steward said.  
  
'I've had a lot of practice,' the Thain answered. He glowered at the Brandybuck cousins. 'You, Doderas, is it? Bring the steward his second breakfast here in the study.' He turned to Berilac. 'How long do you want to stay?'  
  
'Might as well spend the day,' Berilac said cheerfully.  
  
'All right then.' Pippin turned back to the young cousins. 'Bring him elevenses and dinner here, then, and then take him out to a shady spot where he can watch the swimmers and bring him his tea there.'  
  
Doderas nodded. Pippin turned to the other cousin, putting on his most "Thainly" manner. 'Elberic, I am making it your special purpose to plague the life out of the Steward of Buckland, stay by him, be his legs until he gets his own back. You and Doderas must be available to run errands for him and to take him wherever he needs to go. If you cannot for any reason, you must find someone to take your place. Do I make myself clear?'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the cousins nodded soberly.  
  
'All right then. Go and get the steward his second breakfast now. And get something for yourselves, since you'll be dancing attendance on him the rest of the day.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' both said and went out.  
  
Pippin smiled after them. 'They're good lads,' he said. 'I leave you in good hands.' He frowned again. 'But you need to be taking better care of the Master.'  
  
Berilac shook his head. 'Nobody's told me anything since that bull took exception to my being in his pen.' He gave a frustrated sigh.  
  
The Thain nodded. 'I know. They forget that your brain still works even though your legs don't.'  
  
'I seem to recall you've had a bit of trouble that way yourself.'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin sighed, then came back to the point at hand. 'Estella's worried.'  
  
'I knew that much,' Berilac said.  
  
Pippin was silent, weighing his words. He did not want to send the Hall into a frenzy. Driving Merry to distraction would be just as bad as letting him work himself to death. Finally he said slowly, 'Do you remember the fishing trip, the spring after we returned to the Shire from the War?'  
  
'How can I forget?' Berilac said. 'We nearly starved that spring, and the Master...' his voice trailed off and his eyes widened. 'Merry... his heart?'  
  
Pippin put up a calming hand. 'Now, take it easy, Berilac. Don't panic. Nothing has happened to Merry. And we are going to make sure nothing does happen. Do you take my meaning?'  
  
Berilac nodded slowly. 'I am in complete agreement, Thain.'  
  
'Well, now that I've given you legs to use until your own start working again -- and a plague on the Hall that nobody else thought of it! -- you ought to be able to get your hands back on the reins again. Let the Master do the walking and riding, he needs the fresh air. You stick to the desk until they've got you walking again, and then make him share the deskwork fairly. No hogging allowed.'  
  
Berilac sketched a mock salute. 'Yes, Sir! You can count on me!'  
  
'I know I can,' Pippin nodded. 'That's why I picked you to succeed me as steward. Well, I'm keeping an escort waiting. Hope to see you on your feet again when we get back from the Lake.'  
  
Berilac returned the nod. 'Thanks,' he said.  
  
'What are Thains for?' Pippin answered. 


	43. A Trail to Lake Evandim

Author's Note: Due to a beta comment that Pippin's downturn seemed suspiciously precipitous, I have written a new chapter, which has become Chapter 35. Therefore, all the following chapters are now bumped up by one, e.g. the former Chapter 35 "Out of Rope" is now Chapter 36, and so forth.  
  
Hope I have not lost anyone. *sigh* I realize it will throw off the chapter numbers in the reviews, but what can one do, short of writing a confusing flashback which wouldn't fit in the chapters being written at the moment... At least it only involves chapters 35 thru 41.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 43. A Trail to Lake Evandim  
  
They didn't exactly gallop to the Bridge, it was too hot for that. They did make good time, though, and it was just midday when the Thain and his son reached the North Gate.  
  
'Right on time,' Pippin laughed, patting his pony's neck. 'Socks couldn't have done any better.'  
  
'It seems our escort has arrived early,' Faramir answered, indicating the tall figures in black and silver uniforms, sitting on tall horses by the Bridge, gawked at by hobbits crossing into and out of Buckland by way of the Bridge.  
  
'They always do,' his father answered. 'Tactical advantage, you know. It would have been terribly rude of us to leave early and get to the Bridge before they did.'  
  
Seeing their arrival, one of the figures got down from his horse to greet them, calling out 'Pippin!' with a broad grin. The tall guardsman stood eye to eye with the hobbits riding pony-back.  
  
The Thain grinned back. 'Bergil, as I live and breathe.'  
  
The guardsman sobered abruptly. 'I'd heard there was some question about that,' he said.  
  
Pippin laughed. 'Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,' he said.  
  
The guardsman shook his head in wonder. 'You must have some kind of luck...' he breathed, '...from what I've heard...'  
  
'You know what they say about luck, in the Shire,' the Thain said.  
  
'Enlighten me.'  
  
'If hobbits were trees, and a windstorm blew down the forest, the last tree standing would be a Took.'  
  
'You wouldn't be that Took, though,' Bergil chuckled. 'Not from what I've heard. Troubles seem to follow you like gnats.'  
  
'Ah, well,' the Thain said philosophically. 'At least my life is never boring.' He nodded to Faramir. 'Allow me to present my son. Faramir, this is Bergil, my second friend in Minas Tirith. His father Beregond was my first.'  
  
Bergil's eyebrows lifted. 'Faramir?' he said. 'My father serves Prince Faramir of Ithilien.'  
  
'Well, this is Prince Faramir of the Shire... or the closest thing hobbits have to such a thing,' Pippin grinned, 'so you're keeping good company.'  
  
Faramir met the guardsman's curious look with a clear-eyed gaze of his own. 'At your service,' he said correctly.  
  
Bergil bowed. 'And at your family's,' he answered.  
  
'Are we ready to depart?' the Thain asked.  
  
'In a moment,' Bergil answered. 'We are awaiting one more, he went into the guardhouse to have a word with your Shirriff. Ah,' he said as the door opened and a tall figure ducked to pass through the low doorway, 'here he comes now.'  
  
Pippin's grin brightened as he recognized an old friend. 'Strider!' he called. The long legs of the King brought him rapidly to the Thain and his son.  
  
'Peregrin,' he said softly. 'I didn't know we would meet again. When we passed through Bree, there hadn't been any news out of the Shire since Sam and Rosie's escort returned to Bree at the end of May to await our coming. They asked when they left the Mayor at the Bridge, but heard nothing of the Thain. When I sent to invite the Thain to join us at Lake Evandim, I wasn't sure if it would be you... or your son.'  
  
'Well, you have us both in the bargain!' Pippin chuckled, then sobered. 'Faramir's too young to be Thain,' he said absently. 'It would have been Reginard, had he seen fit to come.'  
  
'How fit are you to travel?' the King asked quietly.  
  
'I am completely recovered, thanks to my old friends Treebeard and Samwise Gamgee,' Pippin said. 'Shall we go?' he added, firmly cutting off further discussion of his health.  
  
The King shook his head in wonder. 'All right,' he said.  
  
'But first, may I present my son?' Pippin said. 'King Elessar, this is Faramir Took, my firstborn.'  
  
Faramir bowed from his position on the pony's back. 'At your service, and your family's, my liege,' he said.  
  
The King nodded in return. 'It is a pleasure to make your acquantance,' he said. Turning to Pippin, he added. 'Would you care to ride with us and lead your ponies? We will make better time that way.'  
  
'And we won't have to shout to make conversation,' Pippin grinned. 'Certainly!' The hobbits climbed down from their ponies and were lifted into the saddles of tall horses, Pippin with the King and Faramir in front of Bergil. Guardsmen took the ponies' reins in lead and the party were off.  
  
Not far from the Bridge, they turned off on a path going northwards along the eastern side of the River.  
  
'Ah, I thought we'd go to Bree and take the road going north,' Pippin commented.  
  
'We could do that,' the King said, 'but it is quite out of the way to go all the way to Fornost and then over to the Lake. This is more direct, and prettier. It follows the River most of the way.'  
  
'I've been on this path before, you know,' Pippin said to Faramir and Bergil, who rode at the King's side.  
  
'O? You've been to Lake Evandim?' Elessar said, interested. 'I didn't know hobbits travelled from the Shire, with a few exceptions.'  
  
'No,' Pippin shook his head, chuckling at an old memory, 'not all the way to the Lake. And hobbit lads can be quite adventurous, not to mention foolhardy, my son not excepted.'  
  
Faramir grinned in answer but deigned not to comment.  
  
'Even not-so-young hobbit lads can be quite adventurous,' Bergil said with a sparkle in his eyes, and he and Pippin laughed in shared memory. 'So what happened?'  
  
'Well, the older lads had given us the slip, again, to go fishing or somewhat, and we were to stay behind at the Hall until they deigned to return for us. So we decided to do a little exploring on our own.'  
  
'Who was this?' Faramir asked.  
  
'Merry's cousins Doderic, Ilberic and I. We were very close in age, and usually weren't allowed out without an older cousin to watch over us. We were going to show them! We wheedled some bread and cheese from the cooks for a "picnic by the River", and started off up the road to the North Gate. Took us quite awhile to get there... but we were young and foolish and full of energy. Just as we got to the Gate, a farmer was passing through with a herd of cattle, so we gave him a hand, driving them, looking just like farm lads. The guards let us through without question, when what they ought to have done was to send us packing back to the Hall...'  
  
His eyes grew faraway. 'We followed him to the middle of the Bridge and waved farewell, just stood looking over awhile, throwing sticks down into the water. Then we started to wonder where the River came from... Next thing you know, we were walking along the Riverbank to the North. It was rough going, and we were about to turn back when we stumbled upon this convenient path.'  
  
The King laughed. 'Roads go ever on and on...' he quoted.  
  
The Thain smiled. 'Yes, Bilbo used to like to warn us against going out the door, to follow a path to a lane to a road, to be swept off our feet and into an adventure...'  
  
'What happened then?' Bergil asked.  
  
'Foolish lads that we were, we thought we would keep going, just to see what was around the next bend. Another bend, of course! So we had to see what was around that one...'  
  
'Another bend, of course!' Faramir laughed.  
  
Pippin eyed his son. 'I can see you've followed a similar path in your time,' he remarked. 'We walked until the woods started darkening, and we realized the Sun was seeking her bed, and we were an awfully long way from ours... and worst of all the bread and cheese were all gone!'  
  
'Horrors,' said Faramir.  
  
'It started to get dark and cold,' Pippin said. 'We were afraid of losing the path in the dark and becoming lost forever, so we huddled together beneath a tree, trying to share our warmth, not a cloak between us.'  
  
Faramir shivered, and Bergil looked down with a smile.  
  
'It got worse,' Pippin said.  
  
'Worse?' Bergil asked.  
  
'There were scuffles and snuffles in the darkness around us. We, each of us, picked up a large stick and huddled again. They weren't going to eat us without a fight.'  
  
'How old were you at the time?' Elessar asked.  
  
'Younger than Faramir, here. Pretty small to be wandering about by ourselves. You can imagine what was going on back at the Hall when we were missed.'  
  
'So what happened?' Faramir wanted to know. 'You never told me this story.'  
  
'Didn't want you to get ideas in your head,' his father said fondly. 'Well, we'd walked far enough to be pretty tired. Something amazing happened. We all fell asleep.'  
  
'You fell asleep!'  
  
'Aye. But that is not the amazing part. When we awakened, in the middle night, we were covered with a blanket and a bright fire was blazing in the clearing, with more wood piled nearby.'  
  
'Who did it?'  
  
'We never found out. When they found us the next morning, the blanket was gone, but the fire was still going. Merry and Uncle Saradoc looked about for tracks but found no sign.'  
  
'Amazing,' Faramir said. The King was thoughtful and silent, a smile playing about his lips.  
  
Pippin glanced at him. 'I've wondered, Elessar, since you told us that Rangers guarded the Shire, if some Ranger had pity on three frightened, exhausted, cold hobbit lads.'  
  
The King chuckled. 'Probably watched over them the whole night, as well, to make sure none of those scuffles and snuffles became real enough to menace them.'  
  
Pippin's glance sharpened. 'Strider!' he said accusingly. 'You?'  
  
The King laughed. 'It could have been,' he admitted. 'But I'm not the only Ranger who ran across hobbits astray in the wilds.' He smiled at Pippin. 'And for such a quiet, stay-at-home people as yours, I am astounded at how many young hobbits I found myself guarding, all unawares, over the years.'  
  
Pippin shook his head in wonder. 'And we've never known...' 


	44. A Hobbit Tale

Chapter 44. A Hobbit Tale  
  
They sat on the wide porch, watching the Lake sparkle in the August sunshine. The King noticed a puzzled look on Pippin's face, watching the little princess playing at tea party with Faramir. 'What is it?' he asked.  
  
'She doesn't have much to say,' Pippin said. He looked up and the King read concern in his glance.  
  
Queen Arwen smiled. 'Elven children do not talk much when very young, you know.'  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'I don't think I saw any at Rivendell or Lorien.' Seeing sadness cross the Queen's face, he tried to lighten her mood by saying, 'Hobbit children, now, their mouths are never at rest. Either food is going in or talk is going out, and all too often the eating and talking are going on at the same time.' He was rewarded by her laughter.  
  
'Young Faramir is very patient,' Arwen said.  
  
'He gets a lot of practice with his younger cousins and the twins,' Pippin said. 'I suspect he'd rather be out fishing than having a tea party.' He chuckled, intercepting a glance from the princess. 'She doesn't say much, but she's taking it all in! Just look at those eyes...' the little chin dimpled in a smile as the princess bent to pour out the tea for her guest.  
  
'They are nearly a match for size,' the Thain mused. His eye glinting with mischief, he went on, 'Will she get much bigger than that?'  
  
Elessar snorted, but Arwen answered, 'Of course she will. What are you playing at, Peregrin?'  
  
'Pity,' he sighed. 'They look so well together. I'm still looking for a suitable match for my son, you know.' King and Queen joined him in hearty laughter.  
  
A nurse came out carrying the heir to the Throne. 'He's hungry again, my Queen.'  
  
Arwen sighed. 'The young prince is always eating, it seems,' she said, taking her precious son and nestling him close.  
  
'He'd make a proper hobbit, he would,' Pippin laughed, 'a giant of a hobbit, of course, but he's got his priorities straight.'  
  
The princess looked up, and the Thain beckoned to her. 'Come here, little bird,' he said. 'Come perch upon my knee. I'll tell you about a giant of a halfling.' Faramir also came over, to settle at his father's feet. The King and Queen watched and listened, charmed.  
  
'Once there was a kingdom in the north country, you know,' Pippin began softly, the storyteller's lilt in his voice, 'before ghosts walked the ruins and wolves skulked from shadow to tree.' The princess shuddered and sat a bit closer, and he stroked her back reassuringly. 'Some ways to the South lived a clever-handed and quiet-footed little people, so deep in the woods and so quiet that none of the Big People even knew they were there. They lived by gathering nuts and mushrooms and wild fruit and greens, and taking fish from the streams, and snaring birds and rabbits. They dug out houses beneath the roots of great trees, and lived very comfortably there, you should know.'  
  
The King bent a bit closer to his carving, to work out a tricky bit, but smiled as he listened to the story.  
  
'Something terrible happened in the kingdom in the north country,' Pippin said. 'What it was, this tale does not tell. But one night before the dawning, a furtive figure stole through the woods carrying a bundle. The figure stumbled and rested against a tree, leaving a smear of blood when again it stood. And it left the bundle as well...  
  
'That morning, when Snowdrop the Woodcarver's wife went to kindle a fire in the kitchen hearth, she was startled to find the cradle overfull of a bundle of blankets. She knew her own babe still slept in her bed, for she would fetch him only when the kitchen warmed a bit. When the bundle stirred, she picked up the little hatchet and crept over, not knowing what could have stolen into her hole in the night.' Pippin's eyes twinkled as he looked into the princess' wide ones. 'And what d'you think she saw?'  
  
The little head shook slowly. 'A giant of a babe, there in the cradle, twicet the size of her own!' he laughed. 'A wee babe for all that, she could see he was not long come into the world. Her mother's heart melted within her as the babe wakened and whimpered, and she gently lifted him from the cradle and cuddled him close, crooning comfort.' The Queen smiled and cuddled her own nursing babe more closely.  
  
'Her husband, Tam Woodcarver came in with an armload of sticks for the fire and nearly dropped the load seeing the babe. "What's happened to young Tom, then?" he cried.  
  
' "This is not young Tom," his wife said, "but a cuckoo that's come and been laid in the nest."  
  
' "Where'd he come from, then?" Tam Woodcarver said.  
  
' "Does it matter?" Snowdrop answered. "He's little and he's needing a mother's care and I can give that to him, poor wee tyke."  
  
'Tam Woodcarver laid his wood in the woodbox and scratched his head. "What if someone comes looking for him, then?" he asked.  
  
' "They'll find him safe and sound and cared for," his wife answered firmly. And that was that.' The Thain stretched and said, 'You know, storytelling dries the mouth, indeed.' The princess got down to pour him a tiny cup of tea, which he took with grave thanks. Arwen's eyes met her husband's, sparkling with suppressed laughter at the sight, for the tiny tea set was just about right for a hobbit hand.  
  
The King put down his carving and rose. 'How about some food to go with your tea?' he asked. He bent to kiss Arwen's cheek and smooth the blanket over his son.  
  
Pippin looked up with a smile. 'You know a hobbit will never turn down an offer like that,' he chuckled. The princess met his gaze, and he nodded, still smiling. 'We'll take up the tale again after tea,' he promised. 


	45. Another Sip in the Cup

45. Another Sip in the Cup  
  
Merry came early to the study, only to find Berilac already seated at the Master's desk.  
  
'Have you started sleeping here, then?' he asked.  
  
'There's a thought,' Berilac answered, unruffled. 'Think of how much time I'd save.' He looked down at the desk and back to the Master of Buckland. 'I have your schedule for the day.' He'd wondered how much longer his cousin would put up with being managed, and figured the wondering was coming to an end as Merry put his hands flat upon the desk, staring at his steward in exasperation.  
  
'And what is it, this day?' the Master asked with deceptive mildness.  
  
'Merimas has ponies saddled; the two of you will ride out to the fields south of the Hall to check on crop readiness.'  
  
'That ought to fill the morning nicely,' Merry said evenly. 'And then?'  
  
'I do believe your wife had a picnic planned, by the little waterfall, perhaps,' Berilac answered.  
  
'A nice long walk, and a nap too, I warrant,' Mery murmured. Berilac waited. As he'd expected, the storm broke. 'Just what is going on here?' Merry said, his frustration boiling over at last. 'There's serious work to be done, and...' he stopped suddenly, blinking.  
  
'Doderas,' Berilac snapped, and the lad sprang from his chair in the corner where he was playing at Kings with Elberic, to grasp the Master's arm, guiding him to the chair next to the desk, easing him down. At a glance from the steward, Elberic left the room to find the healer.  
  
'Merry?' Berilac said softly, helpless to rise from the desk to go to his cousin himself. 'Merry? Are you all right?'  
  
The Master shook off Doderas' supporting hands and snapped, 'I'm fine. I just...' he took a deep breath. 'I'm a little tired, is all.'  
  
'You've been tired a lot, lately,' Berilac said quietly. He looked to the lad. 'Doderas, bring us a pot of tea.' The lad nodded and left the study.  
  
Merry tried to make a joke of it. 'Are you trying to work me out of a job? Every time I see you lately, you're behind my desk.'  
  
'Perhaps I'm just practicing for when I'll be regent for your son,' Berilac answered. Merry regarded him in astonishment. 'Close your mouth before you start catching flies,' the steward continued. 'You had a dizzy spell just now, don't try to deny it.'  
  
He held his cousin's gaze until the other nodded slightly. Encouraged, Berilac continued, 'You've been working yourself to death the past months, Merry, and I've never seen such a hobbit for worrying...'  
  
'There's been enough to worry about,' Merry answered.  
  
'...except perhaps the Mistress, but with her it's understandable, you give her so much to worry about,' Berilac said as if Merry had not spoken. 'All the worry in Middle-earth will not add a bite to the plate or a sip to the cup, you know. You have got to give over some of the responsibility to others. The Hall is not about to fall down around our ears should you take your eyes off it for one second.'  
  
He gazed deep into Merry's eyes, willing him to listen as he had when Berilac was the "older, wiser cousin", back in the old days when two years was an eternity, and time stretched before them in endless promise. 'I should have been as wise as Pippin and trained a substitute steward, but I figured my luck to be better than his...' Berilac snorted at himself. 'When I got hurt you started doing my job as well as your own, and it cannot go on this way, Merry.' He tried to smile, to soften his words. 'Are you trying to make me feel useless?' he said, but his cousin did not smile in return.  
  
Berliac decided to try another tack, though hobbits were more accustomed to jesting around a difficult topic than plain speaking. 'Merry,' he said softly, 'you know what you are up against. Your father died young, as did his brother... my father,' he added, almost as an afterthought.  
  
'I know,' Merry said unexpectedly. 'It gets thrown in my face often enough. Grandmother had a bad heart, and she passed it on to her sons. And now everyone expects me to fall over dead, right? I can almost taste the worry in the air.' He made a sharp slicing gesture. 'I don't have time for this nonsense, there's too much that needs to be done.'  
  
'You're afraid of it too,' Berilac said slowly as realization grew. 'You're working against time... aren't you?'  
  
Merry tried to shake his head, to deny his cousin's words, but suddenly his shoulders slumped.  
  
'Won't you let us help you?' Berilac asked softly.  
  
'Merry shot him an ironic glance. 'You're one to talk,' he said. 'Seems to me you've got the same worry.'  
  
Berilac shook his head. 'I don't carry the cares of Buckland on my shoulders the way you do, cousin,' he said. 'You work harder than any hobbit I know, except perhaps the Thain, and even he quits by teatime ... and his father lived past his hundredth year, for what that's worth. Merry...' his voice trailed off and he held out his hand pleadingly.  
  
Merry shook his head, rising abruptly from his chair. 'I'm fine,' he repeated stubbornly. 'Merimas is waiting with the ponies, you say? I'll go over our findings with you later; we can map out the order of harvest and let the workers know which fields we'll need them in first.' With a firm nod he left the study.  
  
Elberic returned with the healer only to find the Master already gone. The steward waved them both to chairs. 'Have some tea,' he said. It was time to have a long talk with the healer. 'Be a shame for it to go to waste.' 


	46. The Hobbit Giant

Chapter 46. The Hobbit Giant  
  
The Thain stretched, having eaten as much as any three guardsmen. 'Where were we, now?' he said softly. 'Ah, yes, I remember. Snowdrop the Woodcarver's wife had found a newborn babe left in the cradle overnight, and she determined to care for the wee bairn as one of her own, though he was twicet the size of her own fine new son.' He smiled at the Queen's bonny one-year-old, cuddled close to his mother, tiny hands exploring her face. She kissed the fingertips as they came near her lips, and delightful baby laughter filled the room.  
  
The nurse came in to take the young heir. 'Time for lovey's nap, it is,' she crooned. Arwen surrendered her son with a last kiss, watched him borne from the room, then held out her hands to her little daughter. The princess settled into her mother's lap and cuddled, thumb in mouth. Arwen smiled. 'There,' she said. 'I think we are all ready.'  
  
The Thain nodded with a smile of his own and a wink for the princess. 'Well, now, don't you know, the two babes were so close in age that Tam Woodcarver and his wife just raised them as twins. She nursed them both, and for all his size the babe ate no more than her own sweet child. The twain did all things together, learning to roll over, to eat from a spoon, to crawl, to walk, to drink from a cup, to talk, much at the same time. And they were the best of brothers, and the best-est of friends.'  
  
King Elessar put down his carving to light his pipe. The Thain brightened. 'Now there's a nice end to a meal. Just a moment...' he dug out his own pipe, filling and tamping and lighting it as he continued the story.  
  
'Four, no, five years went by and the lads grew quickly -- one more quickly than the other, mind. As he approached his fifth year, wee Laddy was taller than both his parents, but a finer lad you have never seen. He was tall and fair and graceful, and excelled in anything he put his hand to. O how they loved their foundling son... Though they wondered sometimes where he'd come from and who he was, there was no question whose he was... he was theirs, their beloved son, dropped by the wind into their cradle. Yet always they remembered that his folk would return someday to claim him, for surely he was special, perhaps somehow, even, the son of a king.  
  
'Young Laddy and his twin Tom were hard workers, and a great help to Tad Woodcarver, gathering mushrooms and nuts and berries. As a matter of fact, the twins could gather twicet the berries of any other two lads their age, for Laddy could reach the tops of the bushes, don't you know, whilst his brother picked from the bottoms. They were a great help to their father in gathering wood, as well, for the fire or for the woodcarver's craft.  
  
'Tad Woodcarver and his wife Snowdrop were very proud of their sons, beloved, who were such good brothers to the woodcarver's littler children. Snowdrop need fear no fox or owl when her little-uns played in the sunlight in the glade on a fair day.  
  
'Five years had passed, as I said before, do you remember, beloved? ...and Laddy could now wear his father's clothes. He was easy to keep for he still ate less than one of the forest folk, but his parents did worry about how they would manage if he kept on going as he'd begun. Tam had decided he'd have to dig their hole deeper to give the lad more room to grow, and Snowdrop stayed busy at her loom for long hours, to weave enough cloth to make him clothes to grow into. Then one day...'  
  
The little princess sat up, thumb in mouth, the fingers of the other hand twined in her mother's hair.  
  
'One day, beloved, the birds sang their warning songs of a stranger in the forest. The animals whisked into their hiding places and the forest folk crept deep into holes or climbed into high branches to watch.  
  
'A green-clad giant with a bow slung over one shoulder and a bright sword at his side came walking softly into the glade. His shoulders were slumped and he moved slowly as if much wearied, yet he was also wary as one who walks in constant peril. He looked about him carefully, as if he'd been there before and was searching his memories. He came at last to the tree 'neath which the woodcarvers made their home. Watching from their high perches, the carver's family held their breaths as he bent to look amongst the tree roots.  
  
' "Not an animal den," they heard the stranger murmur. "No..." the stranger shook his head and ducked further into the hole. "There was a cradle, I'm sure of it. I remember..." They saw him push aside the loose roots which covered the entrance and finally... he looked into their hole. The forest was so quiet that they heard his sharp intake of breath as he gazed into their sitting room and saw the cradle by the hearth. "Hullo?" he called softly, listening for a long time before withdrawing his head.  
  
'When he pulled head and shoulders out of the hole, they saw the tears upon his face. The stranger looked up, calling to the trees around him, "Hulloo! Is anyone there? Please..." he said, and they heard the desperation in his tone, best beloved, and their hearts grieved for him.  
  
' "Please..." he said again, more softly, but the sharp ears of the forest people could hear every word. "I came here once before," the stranger said, "with a babe, my only child, fleeing from deadly peril into deadly peril..." he leaned his back against the tree, slumping to the ground, weary and defeated, yet still he told his tale. "His mother died but a few hours before as we fled our pursuers... I kissed her still-warm lips as the life left her eyes, and took up our son and ran..." He scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, and the woodcarver and his wife rubbed their own tears away.  
  
' "I thought to hide him in a hole, to draw the pursuit away, to buy him a few more hours of life by spending my own... but in the hole was a cradle, and so I left him with hope he might find a safe haven, more than a few hours to live, more than I could hope for myself... I left him, and ran again, laying a false trail to lead death away from him..."  
  
'He called again, more softly, "Is anyone there?" Tam Woodcarver's heart, his father's heart, heard the cry of a sorrowing father, but he dared not answer, for he was only one of the forest folk, and the stranger was twicet his size, best beloved of mine.  
  
'The stranger looked up again into the treetops and raised his voice. "Please!" he called. "Please, I want nothing of you, nothing more than to know that he lives. I'd give my life for him..." He listened to the wind in the treetops, and bent his head once more to his knees as he wept in weariness and despair. The forest people watched and waited, expecting him to rise and depart, but instead the stranger's head drooped lower, the sobs eased... and the stranger fell asleep. Can you believe it, beloved? He'd come to the end of his search, friendless, without food or shelter, to find an empty cradle and no folk about.'  
  
The little princess stared, wide-eyed. 'You know what happened then, do you not?' the Thain asked softly. Faramir smiled, having heard the story many times before. 'Tad Woodcarver crept down from his branch and over to where his wife was hiding.  
  
' "His folk have come back for him," he whispered. "Just as you said they would, my love."  
  
'Snowdrop nodded. "Aye," she said, "though it breaks my mother's heart to let Laddy go, he belongs with his own folk."  
  
'Tad Woodcarver kissed her tenderly on the cheek. "And they shall find him safe and well-cared for, just as you promised." He turned to the wide-eyed children, put his hand on Laddy's arm. Pointing with his other hand, he said, "There's your father down there, lad. Just as we've always told you, he's come for you at last."  
  
'They all wept silent tears to be parting, but all had known this day would come. With a kiss and embrace for each member of his forest family, the lad climbed down to stand before the stranger, who awakened at last to stare in wonder.  
  
' "Arahel?" he said, reaching glad arms to embrace the lad. "Son?" '  
  
King Elessar sat straighter, laying down his pipe.  
  
'With new strength, the green-clad stranger rose to embrace the lad. His arms around his son, he raised his head to call softly to the trees about them, "My heart-felt thanks! My undying gratitude! May grace go with you all your days."  
  
'And the twain walked out of the forest, never to be seen by the forest people again, best beloved, but the forest people have never forgotten Tom Woodcarver's twin, and they tell his story to this very day.' Pippin sucked on his now-cold pipe, knocked it out, filled it afresh and lighted it. The little princess blinked, seeming to come awake out of a dream.  
  
The Thain nodded. 'Aye, lass, that's the end of the story, as my grandfather told me and his grandfather told him, as has been handed down from the days before there even was a Shire as we know it today. Some years later, Tookland became a part of the Shire, but in those days it was still a woodland where forest folk dwelt and lived quiet lives, keeping to themselves and not much concerned with the wider world.'  
  
The King's eyes were bright with wonder. 'Arahael?' he asked softly.  
  
'Aye, that's the name passed down in the story.'  
  
Elessar nodded slowly, his eyes meeting Arwen's. 'He was the second chief of the Dunedain,' the King whispered. 'His father, the eldest son of the Last-king, carried him away from the fall of Fornost as the north-Kingdom was thrown down. As a young lad he was brought to be fostered at Rivendell.'  
  
'So there was truth at the bottom of the old story,' Pippin marveled. He grinned at the King. 'You know what this means, Strider?' The King lifted an eyebrow at him and he chuckled. 'Our families have been friends for a long time... long time, indeed.' 


	47. Return from Lake Evandim

47. Return from Lake Evandim  
  
'It has been a good visit, Strider,' the Thain said quietly as the King's entourage approached the Bridge. 'Let's do this again some time.'  
  
'Can I persuade you to come to Gondor for a visit?' Elessar said.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'The Tooks would never stand for it,' he said, laughing. 'I'd return to find another Thain in my place, not that it would be a bad thing, mind.' His eyes twinkled. 'But I've got used to the job and would hate to have to learn another at this late date.' The King joined him in laughing.  
  
'Then come to Gondor when you tire of being Thain,' he said. 'There will always be a place for you there.'  
  
'I'll hold you to that,' Pippin said, waving a stern finger.  
  
'Good,' Arwen said. 'As will I!'  
  
They were approaching the Brandywine Bridge, and saw quite a throng of hobbits waiting. The Master of Buckland and Mayor of the Shire rode forward to greet the King and Queen. All dismounted to share a picnic on the grass by the River, Elanor serving the Queen, of course, and Pippin serving the King as in times past.  
  
There was a moment of silence when King Elessar proposed a toast to Bilbo and Frodo; it was the day before their birthday. Elanor thought of the Ring Day celebration that would take place in Gondor the next day. Somehow, a birthday picnic seemed a... hobbity thing to do.  
  
At last, it was time to part. Elessar wished to reach Bree before nightfall; they would stay over at the Prancing Pony before starting the long journey South. The King elicited promises from all his Counsellors of the North-kingdom, the Thain, Mayor, and Master, that they would visit him at Lake Evandim when next he journeyed North.  
  
'So, Pippin, will you spend the night at the Hall?' Merry asked as they mounted their ponies.  
  
'Is that an invitation?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Of course!'  
  
'Only for the one night?' he grinned.  
  
'O we might find it in our hearts to press you to stay... especially as the Eastfarthing Pony Races will take place on the morrow.'  
  
'The pony races? Aren't they always held on the First?'  
  
'Well,' Merry said, 'We thought to move them to the Twenty-second this year, since the Thain was to be away on the First.'  
  
'Very thoughtful of you,' the Thain said.  
  
'Indeed,' the Master nodded. 'I expect to be richly rewarded.'  
  
'You have my undying gratitude,' the Thain intoned solemnly.  
  
'That'll do for starters,' the Master answered. Both burst into laughter, and it was a gay party that rode through the North Gate of Buckland and down the road to Brandy Hall.  
  
A sumptuous welcoming feast was held in the great room, and the hobbits ate and talked, laughed and sang into the wee hours. At last the Master rose, saying, 'We'll not be fit to watch the races at this rate. I would hate to miss a close finish because I couldn't keep my eyes open! And the Thain has had a long journey to get here.'  
  
'Don't blame your frailty on me, cousin!' Pippin laughed. 'If you were to keep feeding me and plying me with brandy, I'd be content to talk until the dawn!'  
  
'Not I,' yawned the Mayor. 'I must save *some* words, at least, to open the festivities.'  
  
'Aye, you are just a bunch of old gaffers,' jeered the Thain. 'Go ahead, seek your beds.'  
  
'And will we find frogs in them this night?' the steward of Buckland asked slyly. The Thain's hearty laughter was his only answer. Berilac shook his head. ' 'Twould be just like old times.'  
  
'I'd hate to disappoint you,' Pippin chuckled. 'I don't suppose you have any frogs handy? No? Then I'm afraid it'll just have to wait until tomorrow night. I had little time for frog hunting whilst with the King; his tastes run more to deer and stoat, and those are a bit difficult to carry about in the pockets.' Laughing, all the merrymakers meandered from the tables, continuing to talk as they slowly made their way to their rooms.  
  
'Would he?' Estella asked Merry after they left the Thain and his son at their guest rooms.  
  
'I wouldn't put it past him,' Merry chuckled.  
  
Estella jerked back the bedcovers before settling, though she made sure to do it whilst her husband was discussing a few last-minute details with the steward before retiring. She sighed and got into the bed. That Pippin! Sill, it would be worth checking under the covers again on the morrow... just in case...  
  
Merry came in and kissed his wife on the cheek. 'Any frogs?' he said.  
  
'No, nor crickets, either,' she answered.  
  
'Ah, well, there's always the morrow,' he said, then walked over to the bowl of fruit on the table, taking an apple.  
  
'It's late,' Estella protested.  
  
'Yes, Jewel will be wondering about his bedtime story,' Merry answered with a smile.  
  
'That old pony's probably asleep already, as you ought to be,' his wife said with asperity. 'You're not going for a ride this time of night?'  
  
'I won't be long,' he said, kissing her again, and left before she could argue further.  
  
***  
  
The soft knock came just as the Thain was reaching the high point in his story. He broke off, shaking his head at his son, to say, 'Come?'  
  
As Elberic's head appeared around the door, Pippin said, 'Thank you, we have all we need.'  
  
'That's not why I'm here,' the messenger said. 'Begging your pardon, Sir, but the steward wished to extend an invitation to share a glass of brandy before you retire.'  
  
'Steward, or Master?' Pippin asked shrewdly.  
  
'The steward, Sir, though he awaits you in the Master's study.'  
  
'Very good, Elberic, please tell him I shall join him soon.' The lad nodded and withdrew.  
  
Pippin looked at Faramir. 'Sorry,' he said. 'We'll have to take up the tale on the morrow.'  
  
'That's all right,' his son answered. 'That will give you time to think up...'  
  
'What?' his father grinned.  
  
'O how about a few trolls, and an eagle or two?'  
  
The Thain nodded. 'I'll give it serious consideration,' he said. 'Good night, Son.' He hugged Faramir, rose from the bed, and left the room.  
  
He found Berilac waiting alone, brandy already poured, a cheerful fire burning on the study hearth. The steward nodded him to the other comfortable chair, saying, 'I sent my assistants off already.'  
  
'How are Doderas and Elberic working out?' Pippin asked.  
  
'They show great promise,' Berilac said. 'I'll probably keep Doderas on, he is a natural leader and has shown initiative. He might even become Steward of Buckland someday.'  
  
'And Elberic?'  
  
'Doderic has his eye on the lad, wants to apprentice him as an engineer. Lad has a fine head on his shoulders,' the steward answered.  
  
'It's about time they left the pranks behind and started doing something useful,' Pippin said.  
  
'Ah well,' Berilac chuckled. 'You were still making mischief after you returned from the War, as I recall.' He sipped at his brandy. 'They're about the same age now as you were then.'  
  
Pippin chuckled and sipped his own brandy. After a thoughtful silence, he said, 'You didn't just ask me to talk over old times.'  
  
Berilac shook his head, but seemed to have trouble finding the words to begin.  
  
'Merry was looking well today,' Pippin said quietly. 'Has he been getting more rest, then?'  
  
'In spite of himself,' Berilac snorted. 'He does not take well to being managed.'  
  
'I'd imagine not,' Pippin said dryly.  
  
'I've taken on as much of the workload as possible, shared out a lot of his responsibilities with others in the Hall. He sees the value in that, of course. But I cannot relieve him of his worries.'  
  
'Worries?' the Thain asked. Berilac nodded. Pippin hazarded a guess. 'How is the harvest going?'  
  
'O adequate, for all it's been a dry year,' the steward answered. 'We won't feast every day, but we are not yet facing famine.'  
  
'That's good to hear,' the Thain said with a wry expression.  
  
'But that's not his biggest worry,' Berilac added. He emptied his glass, and Pippin got up to refill both their glasses. Nodding thanks, the steward continued. 'Estella's expecting again.'  
  
'Ah,' the Thain said quietly.  
  
'You know how many she's lost,' the steward went on, '...or you might know. I don't know if Diamond would have told you...'  
  
'O yes,' Pippin said softly. 'She wept for each one.'  
  
The steward nodded again. 'And you know how she nearly died with the one son she was able to bear.' He met the Thain's eyes. 'Merry's nearly beside himself with fear for her. I think it will kill him if anything happens to Estella.'  
  
'If the worry doesn't kill him first,' Pippin said.  
  
'Exactly,' Berilac agreed. 'He buries himself in work to keep himself too busy to think, and he's not sleeping.'  
  
'Same old tale,' Pippin sighed. 'So what is it you want of me?'  
  
'Talk to him,' Berilac said, with a sigh of his own. 'For all the good it will do.' 


	48. In Memoriam

**48. In Memoriam**  
  
The Thain arose early as was his wont. He loved the silent softness of the predawn air, when the stars had not yet dimmed in the sky and the land seemed to hold its breath.  
  
As he stood in the yard between Hall and stables, eyes closed, breathing deep, he heard the ring of pony hoofs on the stones. He opened his eyes to see Merry swinging down from his flame-coloured pony.  
  
'Good morning,' the Master of Buckland called. 'You're about early.'  
  
'I might say the same,' Pippin returned, stretching.  
  
'Ah, well, 'twill be a busy day, and I must needs get Jewel's outing in before breakfast if at all,' Merry answered, stroking the sleek neck. 'Poor lad's old enough, I don't ride him out on Hall business anymore, so I have to work in his outings whenever I can.'  
  
They walked together into the stables, where Merry proceeded to untack and groom the old pony as they talked.  
  
'Aye, but you oughtn't neglect your poor bed,' the Thain answered. 'Poor things get cranky without regular attention.'  
  
The Master shot him a startled look, then laughed heartily. 'No, I suppose not,' he chuckled.  
  
'I'm on a first-name basis with mine, you know,' Pippin continued. ' 'Twas that difficult to part with it, this trip, I had to make Diamond promise to keep it company each night whilst I was gone.'  
  
'You'd best watch out or you'll have it quite spoiled,' Merry warned.  
  
The Thain laughed in his turn, then sobered. 'Merry...' he began.  
  
The Master held up a warning hand, then resumed his diligent brushing. 'Now don't you start with me, Pippin, I get enough of it from everyone else.'  
  
'But evidently you're hard of listening,' Pippin said dryly. 'Else there'd be no need for so many to repeat the same words.'  
  
'I know, I know,' Merry said, keeping his voice even with an effort. 'I work too hard, I sleep too little, I worry too much. There,' he nodded decisively. 'I've saved you the trouble. Now save your breath.' His tone was final, and Pippin shook his head. There was no arguing with Merry in this mood, he knew. He took up a cloth and began to rub the parts of the pony where Merry had already brushed, polishing the chestnut coat to a high gloss.  
  
They finished grooming the pony in silence, then put the tools away. Merry produced from a pocket the apple he'd grabbed earlier from the bowl by the bed, as he'd kissed his wife good night. He offered it to the pony with a last pat, and the two hobbits walked out of the stable.  
  
Merry looked up at the dimming stars. 'There'll be a bath drawn for you, in the bath room across from your rooms, about dawn,' he said.  
  
'Dawn?' Pippin asked, astonished. 'You Bucklanders arise early.'  
  
'Ah, well, cannot lie slugabed when there's so much to be done.' Merry slapped Pippin on the back, and added, 'I must go, my own bath ought to be awaiting me.' Pippin shook his head as he watched his cousin stride towards the Hall, no sign of weariness in his step.  
  
Merry checked on Estella first, still sound asleep in their bed, then went to the bathing room in the Master's private quarters. A steaming bath waited, as he'd ordered, and he quickly shed his clothes and sank into the hot bath with a sigh. It did not take long to soap himself all over and lather and rinse his hair, and then he sat back, resting his head on the back of the tub, letting the steaming water soak away the tension in his muscles.  
  
As he relaxed, the weariness that he'd been holding off returned to try to seize him, to carry him off into sleep. He thought idly how easy it would be to fall asleep in the bath, and snorted at the thought, how it would all look in the Official Record of Buckland someday:  
  
_Meriadoc Brandybuck ("Meriadoc the Magnificent")  
xxth Master of Buckland, S.R. 1432-1443  
Primarily remembered for drowning in the bath, causing his son to become the youngest Master in the history of Buckland, under the Regency of Berilac Brandybuck.  
_  
He could almost hear Pippin saying, 'No, cousin, you've got it all wrong! A proper hobbit is supposed to die in his bed, after an outstanding meal and a satisfying smoke.'  
  
'I'm sorry, Pippin, it just would not work in my case. You see, my bed and I are not exactly on speaking terms at the moment.'  
  
A soft cough roused him as his chin was slipping into the water, and he looked up to see a deferential servant holding ready a heated towel. He nodded thanks, rose from the bath, said, 'Thank you, please get Mistress Estella's bath ready and call Glory to attend her ladyship.'  
  
'Very good, Sir,' the servant nodded, and started to add more heated water to the tub. Merry dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for him.  
  
Entering the bedroom again, he sat carefully on the bed and leaned down to kiss his wife. She smiled in her sleep, then opened her eyes to meet his as she returned the kiss. 'Good morning, beloved,' she said. 'You're up early.'  
  
'We have a busy day ahead of us,' Merry said. 'Your bath is ready, milady.'  
  
She sat up, eyes going to the untouched pillow beside hers. 'Merry,' she said sternly. 'Did you keep that poor old pony out all the night?'  
  
'We are both all the better for the exercise, my dear,' he smiled, but she frowned at him.  
  
'Merry, beloved... you must sleep.'  
  
'I rested,' he said stubbornly. Riding a pony under the starry heavens was certainly more restful than staring at a ceiling through the dark night.  
  
'Well,' she pouted, 'I insist upon seeing it myself.' She patted the bed beside her. 'Come, show me how to rest, I could use a lesson, I think, for I hardly slept a wink all night. Put a dent in your pillow, at the very least, or the servants will gossip.'  
  
Fully clothed as he was, he lay obediently upon the bed. 'There you are, my dear.'  
  
She regarded him solemnly. 'Ah,' she said. 'I see. Head upon the pillow, just so.'  
  
'Exactly.'  
  
'And what do you do with your feet?'  
  
'Well, if you are not fully dressed, you can bury them beneath the covers, very cosy, I assure you.'  
  
'Mmmmm,' she said, leaning down to kiss him. 'And this is resting? What about closing your eyes?'  
  
'That would be more sleeping than resting, my dear,' he said.  
  
'Why not sleep, then?' she teased, but he could see the worry in her eyes and it disarmed him.  
  
'I don't know that I remember how to do that,' he whispered.  
  
'Let me help you, then,' she murmured, fingertips lightly closing his eyes, then soothing his forehead. 'Just let your eyes close, breathe deep, and drift.' She continued to move her fingers in circles and swirls on his forehead as she murmured sweet nonsense. It did not take long for his breathing to become even, and his face to relax. She continued the massage a few moments longer, then cautiously arose from the bed. If she had her way, he would sleep until it was time for the festal breakfast, mid-morning. She tiptoed out of the room.  
  
Returning from her bath, she was glad to see him still sound asleep on the bed. Quickly and silently doing up her damp curls, she was about to exit the room when a soft tap sounded on the door. Instantly, Merry was awake and rising to his feet, combing back his hair with his fingers. Cursing silently to herself, Estella said in as calm a voice as she could muster, 'Come!'  
  
'Begging your pardon, Mistress,' a nervous servant bobbed in the doorway, 'but head cook's that upset, and asking for you in the kitchens.'  
  
She sighed, shot a look at Merry. 'It's just as well,' he said, 'I need to go out and walk the racecourse, make sure no little creatures dug holes overnight to trap ponies' feet. I will see you at the breakfast, my love.' He kissed her and brushed past the servant.  
  
'Very well,' she said to the hovering servant. 'Tell Cook I will be right there.'  
  
'Yes'm,' the servant said with a last bob, and was gone. Estella dashed away the tears of frustration, finished putting up her hair, and headed down to the kitchens to see what was upsetting the head cook on this fine festival day.


	49. Eastfarthing Pony Races

49. Eastfarthing Pony Races  
  
The Mistress of Buckland stared aghast at row upon row of lovely teacakes, baked especially for the occasion, all inedible. 'All?' she repeated. 'Every one?'  
  
The head cook shifted from foot to foot, saying in a low tone, 'Aye, Mistress.'  
  
'How did this happen?' she demanded.  
  
'Well, we were hard pressed with all the crowd expected, and it was every hand put to work. The apprentices are very good to follow written directions exactly, Mum, and so they were set to stir up the teacakes and...'  
  
'And none of them knew that the fat was bad,' Estella finished. She looked at the lump of creamy fat with its yellowish streaks that the cook's first assistant held out for her inspection.  
  
'Aye, Mum, they said they thought it might smell a bit funny but perhaps the funny smell would bake out. They didn't know any better, Mistress, they shoulda been better supervised.' In defence of the apprentices, the head cook added, 'They followed the directions to perfection.'  
  
Estella chuckled without humour. 'I can see that,' she said, looking at the beautiful, useless cakes. She sighed. 'Well, throw them all out. I doubt even the chickens or pigs would eat them. And throw out all the fat as well, there's naught to use it for. It'll taint any food it touches; you can't even use it to grease the pans.'  
  
The cook nodded unhappily. 'Well I know it, Mistress... but what's to be done about tea?'  
  
Estella considered. The flour to be used for today's festal food had been carefully apportioned. The Steward and the Master had gone over the harvest numbers and rationed out the grain, all the way to next year's hoped-for harvest. They'd eat through the winter, not well, but at least they shouldn't come up short, barring some disaster.  
  
'What hasn't been baked yet?' she asked.  
  
'The rolls for the late dinner, Mum,' the first assistant cook said helpfully.  
  
Estella made a decision. 'All right, take half the amount of flour you'd have put into rolls,' she said. 'Mix up a crumble crust with crushed oats, we've some of them to spare, and sweeetening, and butter--mind that the butter is sweet!' The cooks nodded. 'Take the blackberries you'd planned to serve as berries-and-cream, fill the large baking pans with them, top them with the crumble crust.'  
  
'Aye, Mistress, I know just what you're intending,' the head cook said.  
  
'Good,' she answered. 'Cut the squares small, beat up the cream for a topping. It won't be much of a tea, but it'll be something.' She sighed. 'You'll have to use butter until butchering time, when more fat can be rendered. It'll cut down the amount of cream available, but such is life. You can feed the skimmed milk to the chickens and pigs at least.'  
  
'Yes'm,' the head cook answered. Estella lingered a moment to watch the apprentices shoveling the teacakes into basins, to be taken out and buried, shook her head and sighed. She hoped the rest of the day would go better.  
  
The festal breakfast for the residents of Brandy Hall was filled with laughter and cheer, even if it didn't "snow food and rain drink" as it had in previous years. The Master and Steward of Buckland watched the Thain's eyes move over the table, realising that he undoubtedly had an accurate appraisal of Buckland's harvest when he was done. There would be time enough later for discussion.  
  
Then came the gay procession to the racecourse where huge crowds from all over the Eastfarthing were already gathered, cheering, waving banners, singing. Not a lot of picnic food was evident, but the crowd made up in cheer what they lacked in provisions.  
  
The Mayor, the Thain, and the Master and Mistress of Buckland stood up before the crowd, which stilled to hear the Mayor speak the opening words. There was a great roar of approval as he presented the Master and Mistress, but when he introduced the Thain, and Pippin stepped forward to greet the throng, stunned silence fell. The news of his healing had gone throughout the Shire, of course, but this was the first time that many of Eastfarthing had seen him since the previous year, supported on either side, unable to walk unaided. Now he grinned as a swell of cheers began; he waved, bowed, stepped back with a nod to the Mayor, who shouted with a grin of his own, 'I now declare these festivities... open!'  
  
Pippin sat down between Merry and Berilac, Doderas and Elberic behind the steward, ready to jump at his command. He watched as Pansy Brandybuck slowly walked back to the Hall with Estella, turned to catch Merry watching as well, said, 'I understand congratulations are in order.'  
  
'Thank you,' the Master said gravely. 'At least, we hope so.' The Thain nodded.  
  
'When?' he asked.  
  
'In the spring,' Merry answered. Changing the subject, he pointed to the field, where the ponies were being lined up for the first race. 'Look, there's Wingfoot's grandson. Fastest pony in the Eastfarthing,' he said.  
  
'O really?' Pippin said with interest. 'I'd heard Budgeford had a promising entry.'  
  
'Ah, yes,' Merry agreed. 'The Bolgers' attempt to breed swift ponies is beginning to bear some serious fruit. But I still believe the Hall will carry the day... ours have the endurance as well as the speed, you know, and each pony will have to race in several heats this day.'  
  
The Thain nodded and sat back to watch the races. No elevenses were served, he noted; of course, they were not strictly necessary after the festal breakfast, though they were customary. The midday meal was served to the notables, whilst visiting hobbits broke out picnic lunches during the noonday break. Once again, the meal was adequate, not sumptuous as one might expect of festival fare, and he saw even the picnickers were not stuffing themselves with food. Ah, well, one advantage was that it made for less to carry.  
  
Merry left his seat several times, to check on race day details, and to share the nooning with Estella and their son, Pippin thought. Even when he remained seated, he was rarely still, eyes taking in every detail, leaning to comment to his steward, who'd occasionally send Doderic or Elberic on an errand. He certainly did not look tired to Pippin, and the watching Thain saw no obvious evidence of the heart trouble that had taken Merry's father; Merry's colour was good, he was not short of breath, he walked briskly, handled the excitement of the races well... of course, Pippin was no healer, but to his eyes there was little wrong with the Master.  
  
Wingfoot's grandson proved to be the fastest pony in Eastfarthing, as Merry had predicted, though in the final race he beat the Budgeford pony by the barest margin. As the Sun was seeking her bed, the crowds packed up their blankets and picnic baskets and sleepy children. Those living nearby would make their way home, while those from farther away would camp overnight on the already-harvested hay fields, where many bright tents rested like countless butterflies upon the stubble. There would be singing and dancing under the stars, far into the night, and then the long journey homewards on the morrow.  
  
The late dinner for residents of Brandy Hall and special guests took place by lantern and torchlight under the stars. Estella had gone early to bed, on healer's orders, for they were being extremely careful with the Mistress and the little one she carried.  
  
At the end of the repast, as the glasses of brandy were being served out, the Master of Buckland rose for the usual toasts. He toasted the fair day, the winning pony and rider, the trainer, the workers who had made the day possible. He toasted the Mayor and the Thain. With a smile, he toasted the Mayor's youngest, 'for it is young Tolman's first birthday, this very day!' The tiny one smiled and gabbled and waved a spoon, and the Master bowed. 'Very nice speech, my lad,' he said, and was rewarded by a sprinkle of laughter.  
  
Then Merry raised his glass again, saying, 'There are other birthdays I have been in the custom of toasting this day.' Pippin nodded and met Sam's eye. 'First, to Bilbo, perhaps the most... colourful member of the family, a very happy birthday to him, wherever he might be!' All drank silently, and Pippin shared an ironic smile with Merry. Then Merry lifted his glass again. 'But we must also drink to Frodo Baggins, who gave everything he loved to save the Shire. May his memory grow ever green in our hearts.' He fell quiet, and all raised their glasses in silent remembering.  
  
Looking intently at Merry, Pippin saw the glass tremble in his cousin's hand. He stood quickly, raising his own glass higher, saying, 'To Cousin Frodo!' All who remembered Frodo rose to drink the toast. 'And now,' Pippin shouted, placing a hand on Merry's shoulder, 'a toast to our host, the founder of the feast, the Master of Buckland!' He gently eased Merry into his chair, thankful for the custom that the one being toasted must not stand for his own toast. The glasses were raised, and drained, the hobbits resumed their seats. The steward indicated to the servers that they should serve out more brandy as needed, then nodded to the Thain and Master.  
  
Pippin rose and stretched. 'Very nice feast,' he said to all and nobody.  
  
Sam rose as well, nodding to Rose. 'Enjoy yourself, my dear,' he said. 'We have some business to discuss. I will meet you back at the Hall.' She smiled, squeezed his hand, let him go.  
  
Sam and Pippin stood to either side of Merry, unobtrusively steadying him as he stood up from his chair, then the three walked slowly back to the Hall, arms linked companionably.  
  
'I saw that,' Pippin muttered when they'd covered half the distance and no ears were nearby to hear.  
  
'I'm fine,' Merry said softly.  
  
'You're not fine,' Sam contradicted. 'I saw it, too.'  
  
Merry shook his head. 'You're fussing like a bunch of old aunties,' he said, 'there's nothing...' he staggered and they caught him.  
  
'Nothing, eh?' Pippin said grimly. 'Would have made a nice picture, it would, for you to fall over in front of the entire Hall just now.'  
  
'I'm fine,' Merry protested.  
  
'Berilac told me about the dizzy spells,' Pippin said. 'More the fool, you, if you think to fool us.' The Mayor glanced at him sharply, and he nodded.  
  
'I--' Merry started to say, but stopped. Had they not had a firm grip on him, he would have fallen.  
  
Pippin glanced behind him, where Doderas walked, sent by Berilac to follow them. 'Tell the healer we're coming,' he said, 'but don't waken the Mistress.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Doderas said, and jogged ahead. The Thain and Mayor lifted the unconscious Master between them and bore him to the Hall. 


	50. Examination

But first, a word from our author:  
  
Thanks for the reviews, they are so encouraging! Even better than chocolate. Bookworm, your question about heart problems is about to be answered. Xena and Dana, I appreciate your faithful reviews. JJ-Ring, welcome back. Camelia, Frodo, Pansy, thanks! If you reviewed and I missed you, abject apologies. O, and Frodo, KWYM about checking every day, I do that too on stories I'm following. Can be frustrating sometimes. I will try to update "Rope" every day this week, anyhow, as there are quite a few chapters piled up on the outline. As long as the Muse keeps whispering, that is...  
  
And that brings me to the Muse... Dunno where she's been at but she came back with a wicked gleam in her eye and I am in great trouble. You see, "Rope" was supposed to end a few chapters from now... all nicely wrapped up and tied with a bow, so I could start the next story in the "Thain" series, already outlined, in the chute, ready to come out bucking and snorting...  
  
But no, the Muse has a different idea, having, I think, attended an old movie festival or somewhat, the likes of "Dr Zhivago" or "Lawrence of Arabia" or perhaps "Gone with the Wind". Not that I'm comparing "Rope" to any of those, mind, just that she's got the bit between her teeth and evidently we are gonna make Rope into more of an epic than Jewels was...  
  
So bear with me, and if the story gets too grandiose, try to suspend disbelief just a little bit... (smile)  
  
And now, back to our regularly scheduled chapter.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 50. Examination  
  
The healer met them at the main entrance to the Hall. He didn't have to ask what had happened; he had been expecting this for some time now.  
  
'We'll take him to my rooms,' the Thain said. 'No need to disturb Estella.' The healer nodded, and he and Doderas bent to take some of the Master's weight. They carried him to the Thain's room. As they laid him on Pippin's bed, the Thain met the healer's eye. 'Robin, isn't it?'  
  
'That's right,' the healer said, taking up Merry's wrist and peering intently into the Master's face.  
  
'Last I noticed you were old Ossilan's apprentice.'  
  
'You haven't noticed much the past few years, now, have you?' Robin said as he continued his examination.  
  
The Thain chuckled.  
  
'But then, of course, the last few years you always brought your own healer with you to the Hall,' Robin added. 'They never let me near you, not that I didn't know exactly what game they were playing.'  
  
'What game was that?' Pippin asked as he and Sam watched.  
  
'You know very well, 'twas "Let's Pretend There's Naught Much Wrong with the Thain", but any healer worth his salt could tell at a look the real story.'  
  
'It was general knowledge then?' Pippin said softly.  
  
The healer sat back and fixed him with a bright eye. 'No,' he said. 'The signs were there for a healer to read, I don't think too many others would know what to look for. But any healer worth his salt knows how to hold his tongue as well. We all knew you were dying, Sir, just didn't have to say so... a look, a nod when "the Thain" came up in conversation, o yes, all the healers knew. But the rest of the Shire kept thinking and hoping, and we just let them go on doing so... no harm in't, I suppose.'  
  
'Ah,' Pippin nodded, and Sam grinned. It wasn't often you caught the Thain at a loss for words.  
  
'Allow me to congratulate you on your recovery, Sir,' the healer said, straightening up to roll his sleeves back down.  
  
'O aye,' the Thain said, then looked pointedly back to Merry. 'How is he?'  
  
'At first I thought his heart had given out, from what young Doderas said, and the way the Master's been driving himself.' He gave a sigh of relief. 'But the heart's still going strong, no thanks to its owner.'  
  
'What then?' the Mayor asked.  
  
Robin shook his head. 'Sheer exhaustion,' he said. 'Too much on his plate, with yourself dying, Thain--or not, as it were, and the steward nearly getting himself killt, the drought these past three years and the crops failing almost completely this year, and...' he stopped.  
  
'We know about the Mistress,' Pippin said quietly.  
  
'And that, as well,' the healer sighed. 'Not much for it. How do I get him to rest?' He looked again at Pippin. 'I don't know why they even bother to have a healer here at the Hall,' he grumbled. 'Nobody ever listens to me, anyhow. Are the Tooks any better?'  
  
'Worse,' Pippin said.  
  
'Much worse,' Sam amended.  
  
Robin nodded. 'Guess I might as well stay on here, then,' he said. Looking back to Merry, he said, 'Best thing for him at the moment is sleep, and I do believe he ought to sleep awhile, now. This has been a long time coming. Perhaps the two of you might make yourselves useful, sit on him or something.'  
  
'We can do that,' Sam said.  
  
Pippin nodded. 'Can you send Berilac to us?' he asked. 'We've some business to discuss...' he looked down at the bed, 'unless you think it would disturb the Master.'  
  
Robin chuckled. 'I think you could lay him in the middle of the racecourse and ride all the ponies in Eastfarthing over and around him and he'd sleep through it at this point.'  
  
As if to belie the healer's words, Merry half-opened his eyes. 'Hullo, Frodo,' he said to Pippin. 'Good to see you. Are you staying awhile?'  
  
'Perhaps,' Pippin said cautiously.  
  
'Good. It's been too long since we've talked.' Merry sighed and closed his eyes again.  
  
Pippin and Samwise stared at the healer. Robin shook his head. 'You go without sleep for long enough, your thinking gets fuzzy. You start seeing things... or people... that aren't there. He's not delirious.' He brushed the back of his hand against Merry's forehead. 'He's just very, very tired.'  
  
He rose, strode to the door, jerked it open to reveal Doderas waiting in the corridor. 'All right, lad,' he said. 'You can report to the steward that the Master's resting comfortably, and then you and Elberic carry him here as soon as he can leave the feast.'  
  
Doderas nodded. 'We can bring him right away,' he said. 'He'd arranged for Merimas to take over at need.'  
  
'Right, then, lad, what are you waiting for? Off with you now!' Robin said, making a shooing gesture. He turned back into the room. 'I'm just going to check on the Mistress, then I'll be back,' he said. 'Might as well make yourselves comfortable.'  
  
Pippin nodded and poured two glasses of brandy, then he and Sam settled in chairs on either side of the bed.  
  
'At least there's not a shortage of brandy,' the Mayor said.  
  
'O aye,' the Thain agreed. 'We'll hardly miss the food as long as the brandy holds out.' 


	51. In Dreams

Chapter 51. In Dreams  
  
Merry opened his eyes to stare disoriented at the unfamiliar ceiling. It was a flat ceiling, with intricately carven beams of some dark wood, reminding him of Rivendell... but different, somehow. The quality of light was clear, bright, unreal... no, more as if it were *more* real than "real".  
  
He stared in wonder as his ears registered unfamiliar birdsong, while a sweet scent stole through the room. He tried to lift his arm, but it was weighed down by a silken coverlet. Yet, at the same time, he felt astonishingly light, as if he might float away should the coverlet be removed. Pulling his arm out from under the covers, he rubbed his face.  
  
A familiar, well-loved voice spoke. 'Welcome, cousin.'  
  
'Frodo?' he said in amazement. 'How... how come you to be... here?'  
  
His cousin laughed, a sound he had missed for O, these many years. 'And where is... here?' he teased gently.  
  
Merry nodded, bewildered. 'Yes, that's what I was going to ask next.'  
  
Frodo smiled and took his hand. 'Perhaps you are dreaming, cousin.'  
  
Merry stared at him. 'Dreaming,' he murmured. Taking a deep breath, he continued, 'But... this doesn't feel like a dream.'  
  
Frodo smiled enigmatically. 'Then perhaps you are not dreaming.'  
  
'I don't have time for this,' Merry snapped. He tried to sit up, to rise from the bed, but a sudden wave of dizziness caused him to fall back against the soft pillows.  
  
'You have all the time in the world, Merry,' Frodo said. 'Rest now. You've been running too hard.' His smile was sad. 'You're supposed to be walking, remember?'  
  
'Walking in the light,' Merry whispered.  
  
Frodo nodded encouragingly. 'That's right,' he said, 'That's what I told you, before I had to go.'  
  
'You did go...' Merry mused. Suddenly he said, 'But you did, you went to Elvenhome. Is this Elvenhome, then?'  
  
Frodo shook his head. 'This is a dream, Merry. Perhaps I'm dreaming, as well, and somehow we've been allowed to share this moment. The Darkness has nearly caught you, I think.'  
  
'It is all around me, Frodo,' Merry answered. 'I see it when I close my eyes.' He felt suddenly ashamed. 'I'm afraid,' he confessed.  
  
'Afraid of what might happen,' Frodo said gently.  
  
'Yes,' Merry answered.  
  
Frodo was silent, but he squeezed Merry's hand. 'Look at you,' he said. 'Master of Buckland. So many depending on you. Tell me what's happening.'  
  
'The crops have failed,' Merry said. 'The people will starve this winter. We need rain, Frodo, we need it badly, before all the Shire turns to dust and blows away. And Estella...'  
  
'You fear for her, every waking moment, and in the dreams that haunt you when you cannot fight off sleep any longer.'  
  
'Yes,' Merry said.  
  
'And Pippin...'  
  
'O, Pippin's all right,' Merry corrected. 'He was healed, you know.'  
  
'Of course I know,' Frodo chuckled. 'I know everything that you know. I'm a dream, remember?' Merry's grip tightened on Frodo's hand; it felt so real in his, and the air was a benediction, pure and fresh as he drew breath.  
  
'There's nothing you can do for Estella but to love her, Merry. You cannot add to her time, or to your own, by worrying. As a matter of fact, your worry may shorten the time you have together. Do not let dark thoughts overtake you. Remember what I told you...'  
  
'Walk in the light, yes, I've tried for years to do just that.'  
  
Frodo patted his hand. 'And you've done a fine job, cousin. Not many have suffered the Black Shadow, and survived, even thrived in years after. Pippin told me what Aragorn said, as he was healing you... "Weary, grieved, and hurt, these evils can be amended, so strong and gay a spirit is in him. His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom." As it has. You are a fine hobbit, Merry, a fine Master, husband, father, cousin, friend. But your wisdom is failing.'  
  
'What do you mean?' Merry whispered.  
  
'You are taking on grief that has not even come to pass. You grieve for your wife, yet she lives, does she not? As does the child within. You grieve for the hobbits of the Shire, but none have died for want of food. You even worry still about Pippin, for fear that the cure will not be lasting. And you worry about yourself, that your heart will betray you as your father's did him.'  
  
Merry was silent. It was all true.  
  
Frodo said, 'Do you know what I would tell you, were this not a dream?'  
  
'What?' Merry asked.  
  
'I would tell you that your heart is strong; of course, 'twould be better if you did not overtax it, even the strongest heart can be broken for want of care. I would tell you to cherish your wife and look forward to welcoming your new daughter in the spring. And I would tell you that you are equal to the task of leading those entrusted to your care.  
  
'That's why the Shire has a Master, and a Mayor, and a Thain, you know,' Frodo said. 'Together you can find a way. You all have good heads on your shoulders, and lots of training in meeting adversity, thanks to the Quest.' He laughed. 'So something good came of it, after all.' He leaned forward, intent. 'And you made good friends, Merry. Think about the King of Gondor, and the King of Rohan.'  
  
'What do you mean?' Merry asked.  
  
'They owe halflings a great debt, you know.' Frodo laughed. 'They would have showered us with treasure unimaginable, and we took nothing. How it must have frustrated them to be so stymied in their good intentions!'  
  
Merry felt his eyelids growing heavier; his whole body felt heavier, as if he could sink right through the feather-filled comfort that cradled him.  
  
'But you are weary,' Frodo said quietly. 'Rest, cousin.' He gave Merry's hand another squeeze. 'And remember, do not let the Darkness overcome you. Keep walking in the light. Promise?'  
  
'That's a promise, Frodo, just like I said before,' Merry said sleepily.  
  
Frodo smiled. 'I'm going to hold you to that,' he said. 


	52. FiveHobbit Consultation

Chapter 52. Five-Hobbit Consultation  
  
Samwise got up to fetch a comfortable chair from the next room, placing in readiness at the foot of the bed. He freshened his brandy and Pippin's before sitting down again.  
  
Merry stirred and muttered in his sleep, and again the watchers heard Frodo's name.  
  
'Huh,' Pippin said. 'Wonder what he's dreaming about.'  
  
'Seems to be a good dream, anyhow,' Samwise murmured. 'He's smiling.' They sipped in silence, then the Mayor said, 'What's the news from Tookland?' A message had arrived as they watched the races.  
  
'Reginard knew I'd be back from Lake Evendim this day,' Pippin said. 'He knew the races had been rescheduled and I'd be stopping over, but he wanted to hurry my return as soon as possible after the celebration.'  
  
The door opened to admit the steward, carried by Doderas and Elberic. They settled him in the waiting chair, Doderas propping his healing legs up on the foot of the bed, while Elberic poured him a glass of brandy.  
  
'Thank you, lads,' Berilac said. He nodded towards the next room. 'You wait there, play at Kings or somewhat. I'll call you if you're needed.' They disappeared into the next room. Berilac looked to the bed. 'Resting comfortably, I hear.'  
  
'O aye,' the Thain answered. 'For the first time in how long?'  
  
The steward only shook his head. 'He never was one to sleep much. It was worse, of course, after you lot came back from the War. He wandered the corridors like a ghost, then. I thought for awhile we'd waken one morning and he'd be gone, thrown himself in the River, but he didn't.'  
  
'How...?' Pippin asked.  
  
'I was one of the ones set to watch him,' Berilac said. 'As long as he was with you, we figured he was all right. But when he was alone, especially in the dark hours of the night...'  
  
'He never mentioned it.'  
  
'He never knew,' the steward said, taking a sip of his brandy. 'At least I hope he didn't know how his father fretted about him. Guess I shouldn't be surprised that the son worries as much as old Saradoc did. It was a relief to all when Estella took him in hand and settled him down.'  
  
He shook his head again. 'If anything happens to Estella, I don't know what he'll do.'  
  
'Well, let's not get on that ferry until it comes in to dock,' Sam said.  
  
Pippin snorted. 'Trust you to stay off a ferry in any event, even if it takes you an extra twenty miles to go round by way of the Bridge.'  
  
'Well, then, I never need fear drowning, do I?' Sam said pleasantly.  
  
'Hah,' Pippin said. 'Probably drink too much at the Green Dragon and fall into a brimming ditch on the way home when you're an old gaffer, then what'll you do if you haven't learned to swim?'  
  
'Doesn't seem to be much hazard of brimming ditches lately,' Sam answered soberly.  
  
Berilac leaned forward. 'What's the situation in Westfarthing?'  
  
Pippin took the message from Reginard out, smoothed out the folds, handed it to Berilac. 'See for yourself.'  
  
He read, then made a sharp exclamation. 'Failed?' he breathed. 'Completely?'  
  
Pippin nodded. 'While I was off gallivanting with the King, the crops were dying in the field. Hardly anything worth harvesting, though Regi's got crews out gleaning what they can. I expect he's got hobbits combing the woods, as well, trying to gather as many acorns as possible to grind into flour. Nuts, too, though they'll be poor enough from the drought.'  
  
Sam spoke up. 'Hobbiton's just as bad. And news from the other Farthings is no better. Buckland had the best harvest of the whole Shire because you were able to save some of your crops using water from the River.'  
  
'Best harvest...' Berilac echoed in shock. 'We'll be eating off the last of our reserves as it is; what we're harvesting wouldn't take us through Yule.'  
  
'At least you have reserves,' the Mayor said gloomily.  
  
Merry stirred again. 'The King?' he said clearly. 'How could he help us?'  
  
Berilac raised an eyebrow.  
  
'I gather he's been asking Frodo for advice,' Pippin said dryly. 'At least, he's said the name several times.'  
  
'Could the King help, somehow?' Berilac asked.  
  
Putting down his glass, Pippin scrubbed wearily at his face with his hands. 'He was to stay in Bree last night, and then start off on the journey to Gondor this morning. Anyhow, I've no idea what he could do to help.'  
  
'Even the animals are starving,' Sam said. 'Not enough forage for them, and what there is, is sucked dry. Wonder when the rains will come.'  
  
'Even if they came this day, it would be too late,' Pippin said. 'We have to face it, the Shire will run out of food before Yule. Even if the rains return, we won't make it to another harvest.'  
  
They sipped their brandy in gloomy silence, broken finally by Berilac. 'What are we going to do?' he asked softly, fighting fear. The most powerful hobbits in the Shire didn't seem to have any answers.  
  
'Ship grain from Rohan and Gondor?' Merry said. 'Frodo, what do you mean?'  
  
Pippin sat up abruptly. 'Ship grain...' he said. 'How?'  
  
'Wagons from Rohan, yes, I can see that. It would take about a month, I think, now that the King's had the road repaired. But ships?' Merry said.  
  
'Merry,' Pippin breathed.  
  
Merry continued. 'Do you think they could make it up the Brandywine, Frodo? Or would it be better for them to sail along the coast to the Havens and bring the grain overland from there?' He nodded in his sleep.  
  
'Ship grain,' Pippin repeated. 'Is it possible?'  
  
Merry said, 'Well yes, Frodo, but a messenger would have to be sent out right away. The King was to have left Bree today. We do not know when the winter storms will start, that might prevent the grain coming by ship, and ships can carry much more than wagons.'  
  
Berilac raised his voice. 'Doderas!'  
  
Doderas came immediately from the other room, Elberic hovering behind him. 'You were listening?' the steward said. The lad nodded. 'Tell Merimas we're sending a fast party to Bree, to take an urgent message. Elberic will have it written out by the time the ponies are saddled.'  
  
'Right,' Doderas said, and left the room at a run.  
  
'Elberic, you know what to write, I think,' Berilac said. 'Bring the message by here, the Thain will seal it.' The lad nodded and was off. 'Good lads,' Berilac said. 'They'll be running the Shire someday. If there is a Shire...' 


	53. Mouthful of Bitterness

Author's Note: If this were "Jewels", this would be the last chapter! Thanks, Dana, for the encouragement and shoulder to lean on whilst feeling my way in this new direction. (Believe me, this is all new territory, none of which was on the original outline!) Thanks, Xena and Bookworm, for the prompt reviews. They make the Muse much more cheerful and less apt to snap at me when I ask a stupid question...  
  
***  
  
53. Mouthful of Bitterness  
  
Pippin got up from his chair and called Sam over to the desk. 'You've been travelling over the Shire,' he said. 'You know what the fields have looked like. Draw me a map. I need to know who's got food and who hasn't.'  
  
Sam took up pen and ink, sketched out a rough map of the Shire, then added shading.  
  
A knock came at the door, Elberic bearing the paper he'd scribed. Pippin took it from him, looked it over, glanced around the room.  
  
'To King Elessar,' he read aloud. 'From his Counsellors in the north- Kingdom. Greetings...' He read the rest of the message, which stated simply the desperate situation they found themselves in, ending with a request for any aid the King might see fit to render. He looked up at Elberic, saying, 'Well scribed. I couldn't have done a better job, myself.' He took the pen and signed his name, handing the pen to Sam for his signature, then carrying paper and pen to Berilac, to sign as the Master's representative.  
  
Merry awakened as Pippin was sealing the message. He noted the glasses of brandy and the crowd in the room and said, 'What's going on? Are we having a party?'  
  
'Yes, we were planning your memorial,' Pippin answered. 'So do be good enough to go back to sleep.'  
  
Merry struggled up on his elbows, and Sam helped him sit and placed a couple of pillows at his back.  
  
'Don't do that,' Pippin said sharply. 'He'll be trying to get up the next thing, you'll see.'  
  
Berilac said from his chair at the foot of the bed, 'We've been having a meeting; haven't you been paying attention?'  
  
'No, my mind was wandering,' Merry said. 'Would you care to enlighten me?'  
  
'Do you remember how we were discussing trading for food with other parts of the Shire that had a better harvest?' Berilac said. At Merry's nod, he went on, 'Well, it seems the other parts of the Shire had the same idea.' Noting the Master's confusion, he explained. 'Buckland's had the best harvest of the entire Shire.'  
  
Merry was stunned. He looked at Pippin, then Sam, who nodded grimly back at him. 'So we've been having a meeting,' he finally said, slowly.  
  
'O aye,' the Thain answered. He handed the message to Doderas, saying, 'Tell them to make the best speed they can. They're to go to Bree first, then seek southwards along the Greenway if they have to.' Doderas nodded and was gone.  
  
'And did we decide something?' Merry asked.  
  
'You really ought to pay more attention, Merry,' Pippin said. 'We decided to appeal to the King for help.'  
  
'Gondor? Appeal to the King... for shipments of grain? I thought I dreamed that,' Merry said.  
  
'You did,' Pippin answered. 'But it sounded like the only option, so we went ahead and considered it even though you were sleeping on the job.'  
  
He looked over at the Mayor, noting his bleak expression. 'What is it, Sam?' he asked softly. 'You look as if someone's salted your tea.'  
  
Sam grimaced, then looked up and said bitterly, 'It's hard to swallow, going to the Big Folk with our hands held out empty, like.' He'd left off the careful speech hobbits expected of the Mayor and was for the moment plain Sam the gardener again.  
  
'You'd rather starve,' Pippin said.  
  
Sam lifted his chin defiantly, 'That I would,' he answered. 'It sticks in my throat, to beg.'  
  
'And what about Rose?' Pippin asked, his voice even lower. 'What about Elanor, and Tolman, and all the ones in between. Would you see them starve as well?'  
  
Sam's shoulders slumped in defeat. 'We must needs beg, then,' he said. 'But it's bitter, o so very bitter...' He looked up again. 'And what do we do, if the Big Folk feed us through the winter, and the rains still have not returned?'  
  
'We'll frost that cake when it comes out of the oven,' Merry said. 'Today's trouble is about all I can manage at the moment.'  
  
'The grain will be paid for, if it takes every last speck of gold in the Shire, Sam,' Pippin said, laying his hand on the other's shoulder. The Mayor nodded, but did not raise his head. Pippin clapped him on the shoulder and went back to his rough-sketched map. 'So, what you've shaded here, these are areas of the Shire that had some kind of harvest, the rest had none to speak of?' Most of the shading was found in Buckland, and on the other side of the Brandywine, in the parts of the Eastfarthing that hugged the River.  
  
Sam came over. 'That's right,' he said.  
  
'So two-thirds of the Shire is going hungry as we speak,' the Thain said, shaken.  
  
Merry spoke from the bed. 'Let me see that,' he said. He looked a long time at the map. 'Here's what we are going to do,' he said, finally. 'We're going to take a serving from the ruffians' platter...'  
  
'What's that?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Gathering and sharing,' Merry said. 'It will serve us well, where they served the Shire ill. We will ask those with food to give up two-thirds to those who don't.'  
  
'Do you think they will?' Sam asked.  
  
'Do you think the hobbits of Buckland will eat, knowing that children in Bywater are crying for the pain of their empty bellies? We will all eat, or we'll all starve together.' Merry looked at Berilac. 'If we give up two- thirds of our stores, how long will we eat?'  
  
Berilac had gone over the numbers so many times he knew without having to calculate what his answer must be. 'Through October, I think. Our stores would have carried us through Yule, barring disaster, of course. If we keep one third, ration it out carefully, tighten our belts, we'll eat at least until Remembering Day.' The next feast day, after the usual harvest feast, was November the Second, the day when hobbits all over the Shire remember those who have passed on since the previous year.  
  
Pippin smiled without humour. 'Then we can have a final funeral feast, for the entire Shire,' he said. Looking sharply at Sam, he added. 'You see, Sam? There really is no choice in the matter. We're going to have to swallow this mouthful, if there's to be anything at all to swallow this winter.' He looked down at the map, shaking his head. 'No choice.' 


	54. Sleeping Tight

Thanks again, Xena for the quick reviews! It is fun to hear you repeat a line that tickled your fancy...  
  
***  
  
Chapter 54. Sleeping Tight  
  
Robin poked his head in the door. Seeing the Master awake and sitting up, the healer frowned and disappeared again. Berilac said, 'Too late, we're discovered. The party's over, I'm afraid.'  
  
'Quick, pour me a brandy before he comes back,' Merry joked.  
  
Pippin gave him a stern look. 'You're supposed to be sleeping, you know.'  
  
'I'm not sleepy,' Merry countered. At his cousin's raised eyebrow, he insisted. 'I'm not! A little tired, perhaps, but I don't think I could close my eyes.'  
  
'Try,' Pippin said dryly. 'You might surprise yourself.'  
  
Merry looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. 'This isn't even my bed,' he argued, and started to swing his legs out from under the covers.  
  
Pippin intercepted him. 'Stop,' he ordered. 'This is where we put you, and this is where you'll stay for the nonce. Estella's already asleep, and you don't need to wake her.' As Merry opened his mouth to protest, Pippin held up a quelling hand. 'And Jewel's asleep as well, in all likelihood, so you might as well not disturb the old pony, either.'  
  
'I--' Merry began.  
  
'Stay in the bed!' Pippin said, his tone brooking no contradiction.  
  
'That's a fine thing, coming from you,' Merry answered in exasperation.  
  
'Hah!' Pippin said. 'Have a little respect for your Thain.' Merry snorted.  
  
'Stay still,' Berilac put in unexpectedly. 'All that moving around you're doing is jarring my legs.' The Master shot him a questioning look. Berilac held out his glass to Elberic. 'A bit more, lad. It dulls the pain nicely.' Elberic complied, then freshened the Thain's and Mayor's glasses for good measure. The decanter was getting low, perhaps a glassful remained.  
  
'All right,' Merry said, 'I'll stay in the bed, long enough to drink a glass of brandy, anyhow.' Pippin nodded to Elberic, who did the honours, emptying the decanter, the others saw to their regret. Merry sipped, and Pippin and Sam resumed their seats.  
  
'You don't have to dance attendance on me,' Merry said.  
  
'O yes,' the Mayor said. 'The healer told us to sit on you if you tried to get up, and you know how well Mr Frodo trained me to follow orders.' Merry muttered something under his breath and Samwise smiled.  
  
Berilac yawned, which of course was contagious; everyone else in the room followed suit, except for the Master who determinedly stifled his yawn, covering it by taking another sip from his glass. 'You're all tired,' he said. 'Why don't you go to bed yourselves? I'm fine.'  
  
'Of course you're fine,' Pippin said acidly. 'That's why we had to carry you here in the first place.' Merry had no answer to that, so he kept sipping his brandy in silence. About halfway through the glass, his hand began to tremble. Sam quietly took the glass from him, rearranged the pillows so that he was again lying down on the bed, and within a few breaths Merry was snoring softly.  
  
Faramir came in just then, stopping short to see the Master in his father's bed and the Mayor and Thain sitting bedside watch. Pippin put a finger to his lips, then pointed towards the other room. Faramir nodded and took himself off to his own bed, figuring there would be time for explanations in the morning.  
  
The healer returned with a covered cup in hand. He nodded in satisfaction to see the Master asleep. 'Here,' he whispered, holding up the cup, then setting it on the table by the bed. 'If he wakens again, make him drink it all. It'll help him to sleep the rest of the night.'  
  
'How is Estella?' Pippin whispered back.  
  
'She's fine,' Robin said softly. 'When she heard her husband was sleeping, that was all the news she needed to hear to rest well herself.' He looked at them. 'Meeting over?'  
  
'For the nonce,' Pippin answered.  
  
'Then get some rest yourselves,' Robin said. 'No use everybody getting tired all at once. Who'll sit on the Master on the morrow if all of you are worn out?'  
  
'Don't you worry about us,' the Mayor said. 'We're just finishing our brandy; wouldn't want it to go to waste. Then we'll take turns watching.'  
  
'You do that,' the healer nodded. Tapping the covered cup, he said, 'Remember to give him this if he wakes.'  
  
Pippin smiled, having drunk enough herbal concoctions himself to last him a lifetime. It would be nice to see someone else choking the stuff down instead. 'It'll be my pleasure,' he said. 'Good night.' 


	55. Chickens in the Pot

Chapter 55. Chickens in the Pot  
  
Pippin dozed in the chair beside the bed, awakening in the morning to find someone had put a blanket over him sometime in the night. Merry still slept, exhaustion plain on his countenance now that he was no longer forcing himself to keep up a good face in front of everyone. Pippin had persuaded him to drink the herbal concoction when he had awakened sometime in the middle night. Not long afterwards, Merry had fallen into a heavy sleep, and as far as Pippin knew, had not wakened again.  
  
He stretched, noticed the door swinging open silently, to reveal Doderas. Nodding, he rose from the chair, quietly walked to the door, motioning the tween to retreat to the corridor. He pulled the door to behind them.  
  
'D'you have news for me?' he asked in a low voice. 'Is there another message from Tookland?'  
  
'No, Sir, not from Tookland,' the lad answered. 'The messengers have returned.'  
  
Pippin was startled. 'Returned? They should just about now be riding into Bree.'  
  
'They met King's messengers along the way, coming to the Shire with a message of their own; the King himself is coming to meet the Counsellors at the Bridge. He is to arrive midday.'  
  
'Where are they?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Ilberic's in the Master's study,' Doderas answered. 'I was to inform you, and take your place by the Master's bedside.'  
  
'Good lad,' Pippin said. 'Someone's got a head on his shoulders, it seems.' He headed for the study.  
  
There he found Berilac already seated behind the Master's desk, Sam sitting by the cold hearth, dust-covered Ilberic standing in the middle of the room; he had come immediately from his pony but had not wanted to mar one of the chairs, for dust clung to him even though he'd brushed as much off as he could before entering the Hall.  
  
'What's this about the King coming?' Pippin asked.  
  
Berilac met his eye. 'Seems as if Breeland's had the same luck as the Shire. They were thinking to trade with us for food,' he said, a humourless smile lifting the corner of his mouth. 'The King wanted to come consult with the Counsellors of the north-Kingdom, to settle on the best course of action. Fornost, to the North, has had an adequate harvest, nothing extra, mind, but enough to carry them through. And the lands a little ways South along the Greenway report the same. Looks like they got some of the rain that passed us by. They didn't grow enough extra to share, of course...'  
  
'Is all of Middle-earth running short of food, then?' Sam asked.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'No, whilst I was at the Lake with the King he told me the South has enjoyed bumper crops these past three years. Enough to feast and fill more warehouses than they had built. Perfect conditions, plenty of rain but not too much of a good thing, plenty of sun but not the heat we've had shriveling our crops.'  
  
'Hurrah for them,' Sam said. 'For all the good it does us.'  
  
There was a tap on the study door and a servant entered with a tea tray, pouring out a cup for each hobbit in the study, then exiting. 'Ilberic,' Berilac said, 'Be sure to stop by the kitchen for a bite.'  
  
The messenger looked surprised. 'But I thought...'  
  
'No more early breakfast for the time being, I know. But you've ridden through the night, you need to take some food and then take yourself off to bed.'  
  
'Think I can fit a bath in?' Ilberic said dryly.  
  
'Only if you think you really need one,' Berilac said with a smile. Ilberic gulped down his tea and left the room.  
  
Berilac turned to the others. 'We'll be loading wagons of food from the storeholes through the morning,' he said. 'Messengers went out last night, to all the Shire, to tell all about the gathering and sharing.'  
  
'Do you think there'll be any trouble about that?' Sam asked.  
  
Berilac shook his head. 'No, the part of Eastfarthing that had a harvest looks to the Master of Buckland; they recognise his authority. They'll do what they're told in this. There may be some grumbling, but I don't think anyone would stand by while hobbit children in other parts of the Shire are going hungry. And the parts of Eastfarthing that are further to the West... well, they've nothing to share, now, do they?'  
  
'They're not going hungry quite yet,' Sam said quietly. 'Though we are about to the end of our reserves in Hobbiton. I had thought to trade for food here in Buckland whilst we were here for the races.'  
  
'A lot of other hobbits had the same idea,' Berilac said. 'We turned none away empty-handed...'  
  
'Though you had none to spare as it is,' Pippin murmured.  
  
Berilac looked at him ruefully. 'We had it all planned out, you know,' he said. 'We figured that what we harvested, with what we could trade for, would take us through the next harvest. We weren't thinking there'd be no food for trade, that hobbits would be coming to *us* for food.'  
  
'Best laid plans...' Pippin sighed. 'I learned long ago never to count my chickens until they're in the pot.' 


	56. Ruffled Feathers

56. Ruffled Feathers  
  
Estella entered the Master's study, coming to stand with hands on hips. 'All right,' she said grimly. 'What have you done with my husband?'  
  
'That depends,' Pippin said easily.  
  
'On what?' she asked, eyebrows raised.  
  
'On what you wanted him for,' Pippin answered.  
  
Nonplussed, she looked at him, mouth open, until she recalled herself. 'The healer said he was sleeping... but where, he didn't say. I've looked everywhere I can think, including the stables. Thankfully Jewel is still there or I'd think he'd taken himself off somewhere to get away from all the folk badgering him to rest.'  
  
'Including his wife?' Pippin asked, amused.  
  
'Of course,' she said. 'Where is he?'  
  
'He is resting,' Pippin said.  
  
'Where?' Estella demanded.  
  
'We put him in the Thain's bed,' Berilac answered.  
  
'In the Thain's bed?' she echoed. 'Then where's the Thain sleeping?'  
  
'The Hall is famous for its hospitality,' Pippin chuckled. 'I slept in a chair last night.'  
  
'You slept in a...?'  
  
'I could have slept in the stables, I suppose, but they don't keep much brandy there,' he said. 'It's all right, Estella. We kept a watch on your husband to make sure he stayed in the bed where we put him.' She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Pippin raised an eyebrow. 'Next question?'  
  
'How did you know there was another question?'  
  
'There's always another question,' he said reasonably. 'I've a wife of my own, you know.'  
  
Estella nodded. 'All right,' she said. 'Who gave orders that there would be no early breakfast, yet sent a tray to myself and my son? There should be no special treatment...'  
  
Berilac broke in smoothly, 'Mothers expecting, mothers nursing, and all little ones under the age of ten will continue to eat six meals for as long as we can manage them. Anything else would be irresponsible. That is the only special treatment going on, Mistress.' He sighed. 'It is hard on the teens, and tweens, they are growing so fast, but at least they are old enough to understand the reasons for rationing. We have put a guard detail on the kitchen to discourage any who are foolish enough to think only of their own stomachs.'  
  
'Six meals... as long as we can manage them...' Estella echoed. 'But there is food being loaded into wagons. And you told me yourself that you had plans to take us through the next harvest.'  
  
'I'm sorry, Mistress, but those plans were based upon the assumption we could trade for more food.'  
  
They saw her blink, close her eyes, swallow hard. 'Mistress?' Berilac asked in concern, half rising from his chair. The Thain motioned him to be seated, moving quickly to Estella's side.  
  
'Estella?' he murmured.  
  
She shook her head. 'I'm all right,' she said. Opening her eyes again, she met his gaze. 'This is what Merry's been so worried about... the drought has become a famine... and what of the wagons I saw being loaded?'  
  
'Other parts of the Shire are worse off than Buckland,' Berilac said. 'The Master gave the order himself, to share what we have with those who have less.'  
  
'Come, sit down,' Pippin urged, guiding Estella to a chair. He jerked his head at Sam, who quickly pulled up a footstool and placed it beneath her feet.  
  
'What else have you not been telling me?' she demanded of Berilac. 'Is my husband...?' She could not finish the question and her breathing became ragged. The memory of Saradoc's heart failing him, the fear that his son's heart would fail as well, especially the way Merry had driven himself these past months, these thoughts broke free from where she'd carefully kept them bound and locked away.  
  
Pippin massaged her shoulders gently, murmuring, 'Calm down, Estella, think of the child. Merry is fine, he's sleeping, we finally got him to listen to some reason.'  
  
In her fear it seemed to her he was hiding the truth from her; something had happened to Merry, and they were afraid to tell her. 'Is he really asleep?' she sobbed. 'Why haven't I seen him since the races?' She buried her face in her hands.  
  
Berilac said urgently, 'The Thain will take you to him now, Estella. You'll see, he is all right.' He understood her fear, but it was not good for her to upset herself to this degree. 'Please, milady,' he said softly. 'Estella... cousin...'  
  
'Calm yourself, Essie,' Pippin said. The old pet name which had always irritated her so proved once again a good distraction; she dropped her hands to glare at him. He smiled, pressed a handkerchief into her hands, nodded and said, 'Now, make yourself presentable and we'll go see if Merry's awake yet.'  
  
'He's really all right?' she gulped. 'I thought...'  
  
'You Bucklanders do entirely too much thinking,' Pippin said. 'Your husband suffers from the same malady, and look where it's got him. Stuck in a bed, with people nagging at him to go back to sleep every time he dares open his eyes.' More gently, he added, 'Are you all right, Estella? Do you want to lie down? Do you want someone to fetch the healer?'  
  
'I want to see my husband,' she said defiantly.  
  
Pippin maintained his mild, soothing tone. 'Very well, Estella, we'll go.' Carefully, he helped her to her feet. Looking to Berilac, he said, 'Send someone to me when the ponies are saddled. I want Faramir to ride to the Bridge, as well.'  
  
'Ride to the Bridge?' Estella asked, stopping on their way to the door. 'Whatever for?'  
  
'We are to meet the King, cousin,' Pippin said. 'I understand the South has enjoyed abundant harvests these past three years. Perhaps we can arrange a trade. That's the general idea, anyhow.'  
  
'Trade for food?' Estella said. 'What do we have?'  
  
Pippin smiled. 'Well, it might take all the gold in Brandy Hall's coffers, but I'm sure Merry wouldn't mind... after all, his father was known as "Scatter-gold". Merry can surpass him by ridding the Hall of all its gold in one throw. They'll forever know him as "Squander-gold".'  
  
Estella shook her head at his nonsense. 'It won't be squandering,' she said softly. 'Not if it keeps hobbit babes from starving.' Pippin nodded and smiled at seeing her calm again. She allowed him to lead her slowly from the room. 


	57. Bedside Chat

Chapter 57. Bedside Chat  
  
Estella gazed down into her husband's face. 'He looks so tired,' she breathed. They'd sent Doderas off to get his second breakfast while it was being served, for there would be no meals between times for the foreseeable future. Funny, calling a meal "second" when there'd been no early breakfast that day.  
  
'He *is* tired,' Pippin murmured. 'I wouldn't ride a pony as hard as he's ridden himself, these past months.'  
  
'O?' Estella smiled. 'I hear you've ridden yourself right into the ground a time or two.' She took Merry's right hand and frowned. 'It's cold,' she said.  
  
'Aye,' Pippin said. 'He's been having trouble with it, too; I've seen him nearly fumble a glass a time or two lately, and who knows how much other trouble he's had. He's not one to complain.'  
  
'No,' Estella agreed. 'Quite the opposite, in fact.' She sighed. 'At least I'm not married to a fussbudget.'  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'That's the last word I'd apply to Merry,' he said. 'He worries enough to be one, but never talks about it. P'rhaps he'd be better off if he did speak about it a bit more. Sit yourself down, Estella. Might as well have your feet up as not.' She settled into the chair by the bed, still holding Merry's hand, and Pippin gently lifted her feet up to rest upon the bed. 'There,' he said, 'nice and cosy.'  
  
'It's not March,' Estella said.  
  
Pippin followed her thought; it was not the anniversary of Merry's encounter with the Nazgul Captain, yet his right hand was cold and he was having trouble using it. 'Frodo said...' he began, digging into his memory.  
  
'Yes?' Estella prompted.  
  
'I heard him tell Merry once, when they thought I wasn't listening...' Pippin smiled at the memory of the long-ago days, when he'd been a heedless tween and they'd paid him no mind, carrying on their serious grown-up conversations as if he had no ears to hear them. 'I heard Frodo say that Merry would have to choose anew each day, whether to walk in the light or let the Darkness overtake him.'  
  
'I've heard him say it to himself often enough,' Estella said. 'Often, out of nowhere, "Walk in the light", as if reminding himself of a promise. I remember it was in that last letter that Frodo wrote before he went away.'  
  
'Well, now you know what it means,' Pippin said.  
  
Estella caught her breath and let it out slowly. 'Frodo knew all about that kind of fight; the Darkness overtook him at last, didn't it?' she said sadly.  
  
Pippin took her other hand between his own, soothing it as he'd once soothed a frightened, broken-winged bird he'd found in the woods one day. 'Nay, lass,' he said softly. 'The elves took him away before the Darkness could catch him. They took him where it's always light and he'd not have to struggle any more.'  
  
'Will...' Estella was having trouble forming the words. 'Will the Darkness... will it overtake Merry?' She looked at her husband's weary face, then up to Pippin. 'Will it take him away from us, at last?'  
  
Pippin gently squeezed her hand. 'Don't fret yourself, so, Estella,' he said. 'You'll make yourself ill, and you cannot help him then. You are the reason he has been able to stay ahead of the Darkness all this time. Without you, we'd have lost him years ago, I've no doubt.'  
  
She pulled her hand from between his, grasping Merry's cold hand in between her own, bringing it to her lips for a long, fervent kiss. 'I'm not going anywhere,' she whispered.  
  
'O yes, you will,' Pippin contradicted. 'You'll go to your rest when the healer sends you, for your husband's sake if not your own.'  
  
She nodded. 'You have the right of it, cousin.'  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I'm always right, hasn't Diamond told you that?'  
  
'She's mentioned it a time or two,' Estella murmured. 'I hardly knew whether to believe her. I've known you to put your foot wrong a time or two.'  
  
'Ah, no,' Pippin chuckled. 'I've only been wrong twice in my life, you know. And the second time, well, 'twas because I *thought* I'd been wrong.'  
  
'Go on with you, now,' Estella said fondly. 'As full of nonsense as you ever were, for all you're Thain of the Shire.'  
  
'Does the healer know of the anniversary?' Pippin asked.  
  
Estella shook her head. 'We've always kept it in the family,' she said. 'Ossilan might have suspected, having heard the stories you and Merry told, but I don't think Robin...'  
  
'He might surprise you,' Pippin interrupted. 'He sees more than he says.'  
  
'Too true,' Robin said from the door. He bowed ironically as they turned to him, startled.  
  
'You don't know how to knock?' Pippin said acidly.  
  
'Healers aren't taught to knock, so often those we're visiting haven't the voice to say "Enter",' Robin said calmly. Entering, he took Merry's other wrist in his, looking down at his patient with an abstracted expression. 'Ossilan told me about the Black Shadow,' he said softly. 'He thought it was something I ought to know, dealing with the Master.' Looking up again, he said, 'But he seemed to think it was only a worry in the month of March.'  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'That's when it is strongest,' he said. 'There's a power in anniversaries; I've heard since Frodo left how he struggled in March and in October. But the Shadow pursued him throughout the year, and it pulled down his health at the end. Had he not left with the elves, I doubt he'd have lasted the winter.' He sighed. 'He's in a better place now.' He looked from Estella to the healer. 'Just what did Ossilan tell you?'  
  
Robin smiled. 'He said the most powerful people in Buckland closeted themselves for a day or three in March, without fail, and once he came across Merimas and Berilac carrying the Master to his bed after they'd been shut up in the study for a day and a night. He thought for a time that they were celebrating something and dove too deep in the brandy, but it kept happening year after year, and then he had a talk with the healer over at Long Cleeve and it all came clear.'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin breathed, thinking of the dark days when the Shadow had returned that first year back in the Shire. 'He'd know, for true, but hopefully he'd not tell another.'  
  
'Well, he's told no one else that I know of, took the secret to his grave, more like, except for Ossilan, and that only because Ossilan pressed him hard, claiming he needed to know in order to care for the Master properly.'  
  
'Ah,' Pippin said. 'And then Ossilan told you.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the healer nodded. 'But have no fear, it'll go no further, I assure you.' He reached for Merry's other hand, tacitly asking Estella's permission. She gave up the hand to him, and he nodded. 'Significantly cooler,' he said, comparing the two hands. 'Do you do anything for it?'  
  
'If the cold starts to creep up the arm, we wrap it in hot poultices, force hot drinks down him, and talk and sing,' Estella said. 'We drive away the Darkness with laughter and love,' she said defiantly. 'Not the herbs you're used to administering, but...'  
  
'O you'd be surprised, Mistress,' Robin answered. 'Laughter and love go a long ways indeed, and often have much more effect than the best I have to offer.' He put the cold hand down again, and added. 'In this case, however, I'd keep back the laughter awhile, let the Master sleep as much as possible. There's no problem about the love, of course.' He smiled, then looked up, startled. 'I'm sorry, Sir,' he said to Pippin, 'I'd nearly forgot. They'll be ready to depart for the Bridge soon.'  
  
'Right,' Pippin said. 'Will you be all right, now, Estella?'  
  
'She'll be fine,' the healer said, oblivious to Estella's bristling at having someone else speak for her. He turned a calm eye on the Mistress. 'He'll be waking soon, for a bit, I think. Why don't you go down to the kitchen and stir up some of that custard he brags on? I think the cooks will spare some eggs and milk for the Master, if you tell them it's for himself.' He looked back to Pippin. 'You go on ahead, Thain,' he said. 'I'll sit on the Master awhile. Don't you worry, he'll still be here when you return.'  
  
'He'd better be,' Pippin said. 'Keep an eye on him, now; turn your back on him a moment and he'll be back to his old ways.'  
  
'Not much chance of that,' Robin answered soberly. 'He's as likely to fall flat on his face if he tries to get up from the bed too soon.' He shook his head. 'He's used it all up, got no reserves left, rather like the larder, I hear.'  
  
Pippin answered, 'Well, we hope to be solving that little problem with today's trip.'  
  
'So I'd heard,' Robin said. 'May grace go with you.'  
  
Pippin nodded. 'Aye,' he said softly. 'Something tells me we need all the grace we can get.' 


	58. To Beg Aid of the King

58. To Beg Aid of the King  
  
As they passed through the North Gate of Buckland, the party of hobbits saw, as usual, the tall horses of the King's guard waiting by the Bridge. The riders swung down from their horses, and one walked ahead of the others, long legs eating up the distance between the two groups.  
  
'Strider,' Pippin said as he reached them, not a delighted shout this time. Looking closely, the King could see the Thain's face was strained, his son Faramir wore no expression, and Sam looked as if he chewed upon a bitter morsel that he could not stomach, much less swallow.  
  
'Has something happened to Merry?' Elessar asked.  
  
'No,' Pippin said, then, 'Well, yes. He is not well, Strider, but we hope he will be better soon. May I introduce his cousin Merimas, who has come to represent him.' Merimas bowed to the King, and Pippin fell silent. Elessar could see that this was a difficult meeting for all the hobbits.  
  
The rest of the King's entourage reached them, and Elessar said, 'Allow me to present, in my turn, the Counsellors of the North-kingdom representing the Hobbits and Men of Breeland, Mr Underhill, and Mr Butterbur.' The latter was a short, fat, red-faced Man, with bald head and greying eyebrows, whose face creased in a smile to greet the hobbits. 'Mr Took, Master Gamgee, indeed it is good to see you again. O, and my friend here really is named Mr Underhill, not like your Mr Underhill, mind.' The hobbit nodded, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. He'd been there, that evening in the Prancing Pony, and had at that time warmly greeted as a long- lost relation the Baggins who'd passed himself off as an Underhill.  
  
'Come,' said Elessar. 'Let us sit down and talk.' He waved his arm towards the browning meadow by the Road, where several guards had spread out blankets to accommodate the King and his Counsellors.  
  
They seated themselves, and the guardsmen retreated to a discreet distance. The hobbits were silent, waiting for the King to speak. 'You sent to me for aid,' he finally said.  
  
Pippin raised his eyes to the King's. 'We are in a fix, and no mistake, Strider,' he said.  
  
'Why was nothing of this said, the other day, when we left you off at the Bridge?' the King asked quietly.  
  
'We didn't know, ourselves,' Pippin said. 'Each Farthing knew of its own bad harvest, but was hoping to trade for food with the other Farthings, to tide them over until next year's harvest.'  
  
Mr Butterbur gave a choking laugh, and the others turned to him. 'Breeland was hoping to trade with the Shire for food,' he explained.  
  
Pippin smiled slightly. 'So our messengers said,' he answered. 'We've plenty of dust to trade, Mr Butterbur, but no food, I fear.'  
  
'How much did you harvest?' the King asked quietly.  
  
'Harvest?' Pippin said, and Sam laughed softly. Merimas shook his head.  
  
When Elessar turned to him, Sam said, 'We might as well have kept the seed in the storeholes, at least we'd have something to eat for a little while longer. 'Twas wasted in the ground.' The King's eyes widened, and the four from the Shire nodded soberly.  
  
Mr Underhill sucked in his breath and exchanged glances with Barliman Butterbur. 'Breeland is better off than the Shire, it seems, hard as it is to believe,' he said.  
  
'How much food do you have then?' Elessar pressed.  
  
'The hobbits of the Shire will eat for a month, perhaps a little more,' the Thain said with difficulty, forcing himself to meet the King's eyes. Merimas kept his gaze on Pippin, and Sam kept his eyes cast down. 'We are out of rope, Strider, at the end of our resources. We've come to you, frankly, because there's nothing else we can think to do.'  
  
Elessar felt his way carefully, not wanting to offend his Counsellors and old friends. 'Breeland has already requested aid of the King,' he said. 'I will be sending swift messengers to Rohan and Gondor. We will send immediate aid by wagon from Rohan, and load ships in Gondor to sail down the Anduin and up to the Havens or up the Baranduin with enough food to take the drought-stricken lands through to the next harvest.'  
  
'We will pay for whatever we receive,' Pippin said suddenly. 'We do not come to you as beggars, Strider.'  
  
'No thought was further from my mind,' the King said. 'Gondor owes a great debt to the Shire.'  
  
'We will pay, Strider,' Pippin said. He locked gazes with the King until the other nodded.  
  
'All those details remain to be worked out,' the King said. 'What I need to know is an approximate number of Shirefolk we're talking about. I have numbers for Breeland already, but need to know how many more wagons to send.' The Consellors went over numbers with the King, who gave low voiced instructions to a scribe sitting near at hand.  
  
'I think you can expect the wagons to arrive near the end of October, perhaps the beginning of November,' the scribe said, 'If the Rohirrim have the wagons... we know they've horses enough, and storehouses of foodstuffs. From all reports, the Road is in good repair and the bridge at Sarn has been completed.'  
  
'Sarn Ford?' Samwise asked. 'I remember seeing the Men building there, as we passed through, and wondered what they were doing.'  
  
'Yes, we've put in a drawbridge at Sarn to take the place of the Ford there, and dredged the Baranduin to allow passage of ships up and down the River,' the scribe explained.  
  
'Settlement is increasing along the River and the Road,' the King said. 'The empty lands are not so desolate as they used to be.  
  
The King and his Counsellors continued their discussion. At one point, a guardsman came forward to serve the King. Though he offered refreshment to the Shirefolk, they had brought their own food and stubbornly refused to share the King's, wanting to underline their desire for independence despite the desperate situation they found themselves in. They did not decline the wine he brought, however, though they insisted that he and the Breelanders partake of some of Buckland's famous brandy that they had carried to the meeting.  
  
It was a strained and difficult meeting, and the King's heart was in his words when he finally bade his old friends farewell, and expressed the hope that their next meeting would be a happier one. It was with a heavy heart that he mounted his horse for the long ride to Bree, to set in motion the plan to save the Shire, and Breeland.  
  
(Note to readers who may have read about "barges" in this chapter before it was revised: I have taken out the barges as they did not seem workable on second thought) 


	59. To Sleep, Perchance

**59. To Sleep, Perchance**  
  
Merry opened his eyes to see Doderic in the chair by the bed. 'Why aren't you out digging something?' he asked irritably.  
  
Doderic smiled and stretched. 'Too hot out there,' he said. 'It was either splash in the shallows of the River with the little ones, which is _much_ too much work, or hide away underground, and what better place to do it than in the pleasant and gracious company of the Master?'  
  
'Which Master are you talking about?' Merry asked.   
  
Doderic grinned. 'You're very pleasant company when you're asleep, cousin,' he said.  
  
Merry sighed. 'I've been sleeping for days.'  
  
'Not quite,' Doderic answered. 'The races were only the day before yesterday, you know.'  
  
'Then I've had plenty of sleep,' Merry said, trying to struggle upright, only to be pushed back down by his cousin.  
  
'I calculate that if you sleep straight through the next month you will have made up for all the sleep you've lost this year,' Doderic said.  
  
Merry looked at him in exasperation. 'Go calculate something else,' he snapped.  
  
The healer breezed in with a bowl. 'Ah,' he said, 'We're awake.'  
  
The Master glared. 'I don't know about you,' he said, 'but _I_ certainly am.'  
  
Unperturbed, Robin handed the bowl to Doderic. 'Here,' he said.  
  
Doderic affected surprise. 'Some of Estella's special custard? For me?'  
  
'No, you idiot, for me,' Merry said, reaching for the bowl, but his right hand did not seem to be working properly and he settled back in silent frustration.  
  
The healer propped him into a sitting position. Doderic was surprised to see how weak his cousin was, and he spoke more gently. 'I _thought_ I saw you nearly drop your glass at the late supper,' he said. 'Do you want to eat with your left hand, or shall I feed it to you?' Merry snorted in answer, and Doderic steadied the bowl for him as he fed himself, somewhat awkwardly.  
  
'Where's Estella?' he demanded of the healer after a few bites.  
  
Robin smiled. 'I sent her to nap away the hottest part of the day, and after that she's going to take your son down to the River to splash in the shallows.'  
  
'The shallows...' Merry echoed. 'With the River so low...' he mused, then looked up. 'Have any of the wells failed yet?'  
  
Doderic laughed. 'Trust you to find something to worry about,' he said. 'Haven't you any better things to do? Sleep, for instance?'  
  
'Have they?' Merry insisted. Doderic hesitated, and the Master nodded. 'I knew we were close to losing some of the shallower wells,' he said. 'Have you started taking water from the River, yet?'  
  
Doderic shook his head. 'It hasn't come to that. We have sent out a warning to boil any water taken from the River before using it, for those whose wells are failing. I had crews out digging for water this morning, in the cool of the day, and we may dig by torchlight when the Sun has gone down.' He put the empty bowl aside. 'Don't worry, Merry,' he said. 'We've all the water we need flowing by the Hall. No matter how bad the drought is, the Brandywine will never run dry.'  
  
'I would have said the Shire would never run out of food,' Merry said gloomily.  
  
'We haven't, yet,' Robin said, pulling away the pillows that propped him up in the bed and easing him down. 'And now it is time to sleep again.'  
  
'Sleep,' Merry grumbled. 'I'm sleeping my life away.'  
  
The healer smiled. 'Quite the opposite,' he said, 'I assure you.'  
  
***  
  
The next time he woke, it was dark outside the window and Pippin was sitting by the bed. 'What did the King say?' Merry asked.  
  
'You're not one to waste words, I'll say that for you,' Pippin said. 'How about, "How are you, Pippin? How was the ride, Pippin? Welcome back, cousin, I hope you didn't get heat sickness from riding in the Sun..."?'  
  
Merry said obediently, 'How are you, Pippin? How was the ride, Pippin? Welcome back, cousin, I hope you didn't get heat sickness from riding in the Sun.'  
  
The Thain leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the bed. 'I'm fine, cousin, thank you for asking,' he said. He took a deep breath, then added, 'We are now officially beholden to the King.'  
  
'Ah, well,' Merry said philosophically. 'He's been beholden to the Shire for years, after what Frodo and Sam did... I guess we're just getting a taste of our own bitter herbs.' Pippin made a wry face, and Merry added, 'Let us think cheerful thoughts. Perhaps the wagons will get stuck at Sarn Ford and a flood will come down to wash them away. Then we won't be owing anything to anyone.'  
  
'No such luck,' Pippin sighed. 'They've built a bridge at Sarn Ford, the King says.'  
  
'Ah, well,' Merry said. 'I guess we're to be stuck with wagons of food, then.'  
  
'I can think of worse things,' Pippin answered.  
  
'So can I,' Merry said. '...like lying abed for days on end when there's work to be done.'  
  
'I've tried it,' Pippin said. 'It's not so bad, once you get used to it.'  
  
'I don't _want_ to get used to it!' Merry snapped. He started to throw back the covers but his cousin forestalled him. 'Pippin!' he said. 'I shall go mad if I have to stay abed any longer.'  
  
'No you won't,' Pippin said stubbornly. 'You'll get the sleep you've been denying yourself.'  
  
'No one ever died for lack of sleep,' Merry said.  
  
'Are you looking to become the first?' Pippin asked. 'Here,' he said, 'I'll help you to sit up, if you promise that is as far as you will take things.' At Merry's nod, he propped his cousin with pillows. 'Would you care for some of the Hall's finest?'  
  
'Are we running out of that, too?' Merry asked.  
  
'No, I'm told there's a goodly supply, yet,' Pippin said, pouring out two glasses of brandy. He noted that Merry did not even try to take the glass with his right hand.  
  
'Good, at least we'll have something to drink when the wells all run dry,' Merry said.  
  
'Doderic has crews out digging deeper wells as we speak,' Pippin said. 'Which reminds me. Another message came from Tuckborough this evening. The hobbits of Tookland express thanks for the wagonloads of foodstuffs.'  
  
'How's the water supply there?'  
  
'I do believe they are delving ever deeper into the earth in search of water,' Pippin said. 'Nothing that a little rain wouldn't fix.'  
  
'More than a little, I'm afraid,' Merry said, sipping his brandy.  
  
'How's the hand?' Pippin said.  
  
'It hasn't fallen off, yet,' Merry said. He moved the fingers slightly. 'A little stiffer than yesterday, perhaps. I think I'm getting too much sleep; it seems to be making me stiff all over.' He shrugged his shoulders a few times and sipped again. 'What did the King say?'  
  
'We should receive wagonloads of food from the South at the end of October, or early in November,' Pippin said. 'Enough to take us through Yule, and by then more ought to arrive by ship, if the River is not too low.'  
  
'Never count your chickens until they're in the pot,' Merry said.  
  
'Well, if it doesn't rain, the Shire is going to turn to dust and blow away,' Pippin said 'The King offered us lands in the South, by the way, should that happen.'  
  
'What?' Merry said sharply, sitting up a little straighter.  
  
'There weren't always hobbits in the Shire, you know,' Pippin said. 'Think of all the old legends, before Marcho and Blanco. For that matter, where did Marcho and Blanco come from, after all?'  
  
'Leave the Shire?' Merry whispered. 'I cannot imagine such a thing.'  
  
'I wonder if the hobbits who crossed the mountains in the first place could imagine leaving their fair and green country in the upper vales of the Anduin, before Greenwood the Great became Mirkwood the Dark,' Pippin said. He put his glass down and stretched. 'But it may not come to that. The rains may come; they've had a nice holiday, three years now, and must be feeling rather sick for a sight of old haunts again.' He took Merry's empty glass. 'And now, cousin, unless you wish to eat something, I think it is time to sleep again.'  
  
'I'm not hungry,' Merry said absently. 'And I don't want to sleep.'  
  
'The healer has ordered that you stay in bed a week complete,' Pippin answered.  
  
'A week! I've had two days, surely that is more than enough,' Merry said. 'There is so much to be done, Pippin.'  
  
'Don't I know it?' Pippin answered. 'I must needs return to Tuckborough tomorrow. But I expect you to stay abed even without me sitting upon you.' He picked up a covered cup from the table by the bed. 'Here, Healer Robin left this for you. He said it would help you to sleep without dreaming.'  
  
'That would be a mercy,' Merry said quietly. He took the cup in his left hand, but did not drink.  
  
'I know why the healer will not let your wife sit by your bedside,' Pippin said, 'and why Robin has left you in this bed rather than your own.' Merry was confused at the apparent change of subject.  
  
'Why is that?' Merry asked.   
  
'You were calling for Estella, earlier,' Pippin said. 'It did not sound like a pleasant dream.'  
  
Merry was silent, looking into the depths of the cup.  
  
'All the worry in the world will not add a day to Estella's life,' Pippin said softly, 'and it harms her as well as yourself, you know, for you give her cause to worry about you.'  
  
Merry said nothing. Pippin took the silence to mean encouragement, so he took a deep breath and continued. 'Each day is another gold coin added to your treasure, you know.' Merry nodded. 'So guard them, gather them, hold them close. But... do not squander them in worry and fear.' He gazed earnestly at his cousin. 'We cannot know the number of our days, Merry. You could go out on the River tomorrow with Estella, and never return, just as happened to Drogo and Primula, or you could both live to be a hundred. As you said yourself, today's troubles are enough for today; don't look for tomorrow's troubles. They may never come, but even if they do, all the worry in Middle-earth won't keep them away, and might well hasten their coming.'  
  
They sat in silence for a long while.  
  
Finally, breaking the silence, 'How did my baby cousin ever become so wise?' Merry asked.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'Must have been all those long talks with my bed,' he said. 'We're on a first-name basis, you know.'  
  
Merry nodded. 'I think you've mentioned that.' Despite himself, he felt his eyelids becoming heavy again. He drank the bitter herbal concoction at a gulp and handed the cup to his cousin.  
  
'Good night,' Pippin said quietly. 'Sleep tight, cousin, and may all your dreams, if any, be pleasant ones.'  
  
Merry yawned, murmured something inaudible, turned over, and slept again.


	60. Red Arrow for the Riddermark

60. Red Arrow for the Riddermark  
  
The message travelled swiftly down the King's highway, pausing only for a fresh horse at each guard outpost, and change of rider every half day. A bare five days out of Bree, two riders set out from the last outpost before Rohan, one to take the message to the Golden Hall, and the other to continue at speed to Gondor. They were met at the border of Rohan by a small group of the Rohirrim; after swift explanation, two of the Riders of Rohan accompanied each errand rider along his way, to avoid delay by eliminating the need for further explanation to other guards of Rohan encountered along the way.  
  
The King's messenger was encouraged to hear that the King of Rohan was at the Golden Hall this day, and that he need not hunt to the far reaches of the Mark to deliver his message. He rode on through the early hours of the morning, and as the Sun rose from her rest he saw the glad sight of the mountains of the South, their white tips gleaming rosy in the sunrise, the home he had not seen since taking assignment to his outpost some years earlier. Before him yawned the wide glen guarded by the Golden Hall, a dark mass rose before him, silver stream caressing its foot, crown of gold gleaming from its top. As his horse's strides ate away the leagues, the mists that rose from the grassy hills burned away and he could see clearly the dike, the mighty wall, and the thorny fence surrounding the courts of Edoras, and he heard his escort give a shout. Pulling his horn from his belt, he gave a great blast, to hear an answering sound of trumpets on the breeze.  
  
His tiring mount put on a fresh burst of speed, and they galloped to the foot of the rise, across the silver stream to the wide rutted track leading upwards. Here his escort pulled their horses to a walk, and past the silent mounds of the former kings of the Mark they walked their horses. The messenger controlled his urgent desire for speed, trying to content himself with the fact that at least his mount would have a chance to catch its breath for the last haul up the winding way to the gates of Edoras.  
  
The guards at the gate, seeing his escort, waved him through, and he rode his lathered horse to the very steps of the Hall, pulling the message from his saddlebag, jumping down to climb the long stair. The Doorward stopped him with upheld hand, saying, 'Wait here, I will announce you to the King. I bid you to lay aside your weapons.' The heavy doors were already open to admit the morning breeze, and the guard disappeared within the Hall.  
  
The messenger cast off his sword and his knife as he waited. The guard returned quickly, beckoning the messenger to follow. They proceeded into the Hall, but not all the way to the dais, where he had expected to find the King of Rohan upon his gilded chair. Instead, King Eomer strode forward to meet him. With him was a tall, golden-haired woman like enough to be his sister, and a grey-eyed man of Gondor whom the messenger recognised as Prince Faramir of Ithilien.  
  
He fell to one knee before the King, holding out the black-feathered arrow with red-painted tip. 'Hail, Lord of the Rohirrim, friend of Gondor!' he said. 'Targil am I, errand-rider of King Elessar, who bring you this token.' Eowyn, for that is who she was, took her husband Faramir's arm and looked up at him, disturbance writ plain on her face.  
  
'The Red Arrow... War?' the King broke in, for the borders had been peaceful this past year or two and he had heard of no troubling of Gondor whilst the King was in his northern realm.  
  
'War of sorts,' the messenger replied. 'The land of the Halflings has been besieged by drought these past three years, and now famine stalks the land. The Ernil i Pheriannath has appealed to the King for aid, lest hunger should slay his people and the land be left empty and desolate.'  
  
'The Holbytlan are starving?' King Eomer said, and his sister gave a soft exclamation. 'This is grievous news, indeed. Rise, Targil, and walk with me.' He nodded to his sister and her husband to follow. The little group walked slowly to the entrance of the Hall as they talked, to stand upon the wide porch in the sunshine, looking out upon the rich fields of Rohan.  
  
'The North-kingdom is in great need,' the messenger said, 'not only the Shire, but Breeland as well. Often the Rohirrim have ridden out to help Gondor in time of war, under Steward, and then King, but now the King asks the Rohirrim for their strength, and speed, and generosity lest his subjects the Halflings and Breelanders should perish.'  
  
'How can we help?' Eomer said. 'We will do whatever we can.'  
  
'We have heard that your storehouses are overflowing, as ours do in Gondor. The King shall fill the holds of ships with foodstuffs, sail them down the Anduin to the Sea and along the coast, though they must brave the winter storms to do so, to the Havens. Up the Baranduin would be better, but the drought has lowered the River and unless there is rain, the ships will not be able to find passage. All this will take time, which the Halflings do not have. Wagons from Rohan could reach the Shire and Breeland in a month, perhaps, if you have the wagons ready at hand.'  
  
The King nodded. 'We will gather wains from the ends of the Mark,' he said, 'from every holding and every farm, and fill them with food. How is the road from here to the North-kingdom?'  
  
'Clear and dry,' the messenger said wryly. 'No sign of rain, yet, though October is upon us.'  
  
'The North-kingdom's bane may become their blessing,' Eomer said. 'Dry roads make for swifter passage.' He saw the messenger sway slightly. 'But you are weary. Take food and rest, we will care for your mount. I will send word throughout the Mark, and we will fill as many wains as may be. Tomorrow you may carry word back to the King that our wains will depart a week from this day, and will make all possible speed northwards along his road.' He nodded to a guard, who indicated that the messenger should follow him.  
  
Then King Eomer called a number of his guards to serve as messengers, to set in motion his part in the plan to save the Holbytlan, the Hobbits, to whom his people owed so much.  
  
Eowyn put a hand on his arm. 'How can we help?' she said urgently, her husband nodding at her side.  
  
'I gather the message already continues on to Gondor,' Eomer said. 'The work here will be to gather the wains and foodstuffs.' He looked down at the paper that had encircled the shaft of the arrow. 'The hobbits ask for shipments of grain, for themselves and their starving animals, but I should think much more would be needed. What sorts of food, besides grain, will travel well?'  
  
'Root crops,' said his sister. 'Potatoes and carrots, to start. Legumes, dried beans, as well. And why not wheels of cheese? We have many, aging in the caves, and they will travel if well-wrapped. Dried fruit... and apples, which we are harvesting even now, will travel well if properly packed.'  
  
'I will need to arrange an escort, as well,' King Eomer said. 'Such a caravan would be tempting to outlaws, who still lurk in the wilderland to be found in between the settlements.' He smiled. 'Perhaps I will lead the escort personally,' he mused. 'I have never seen the Northland, though Master Meriadoc most graciously invited me to visit should I ever turn my horse's head that way.'  
  
'I have not travelled that way, myself, though I'd promised the King I would visit Lake Evendim and Arnor at some point,' Faramir said. He turned to Eowyn. 'What say you, wife? We have travelled this far, and fair Ithilien continues to prosper without our constant attendance. Shall we fare a bit further, and put off our return to Ithilien until after Yule?'  
  
Ewoyn's grasp on her husband's arm tightened, and she smiled into his eyes. 'I should like that,' she said.  
  
'Good,' Faramir nodded. 'I shall send a message to my steward to that effect. It shall be good to see Master Peregrin once again.'  
  
'And Master Meriadoc,' said his wife firmly. 


	61. Dark Days

61. Dark Days  
  
On the day Healer Robin had decreed that the Master might leave his bed, the healer came early to the room where Merry slept, for a last examination. He half expected to find the bed empty already, the Master gone, busy about his duties, having put the hated bed and enforced rest behind him. Imagine his surprise at opening the door, to find the bed still occupied, Master evidently still deeply asleep, back turned to the door.  
  
'Master?' he said tentatively, walking to the bedside. Putting his hand out, he could feel the furnace heat from the body even before he touched it. 'Master Meriadoc?' he said, his hand on the hot shoulder.  
  
Merry turned slowly, glazed eyes coming half open to stare at him.  
  
'I came to see if you were ready to get up,' the healer said stupidly.  
  
'I'm tired,' Merry murmured. 'I think I'll sleep just a little longer.' His eyes closed and he rolled away again.  
  
High fever. Even the hand that had stayed stubbornly cool despite the long rest was now hot to the touch. Robin turned quickly, jerked open the door, hailed a passing servant. 'Send Pansy Brandybuck to me here at once,' he said brusquely. The servant nodded, leaving his current errand to do the healer's bidding.  
  
As he waited for Pansy to arrive, Robin made a quick examination. Rapid pulse, fast breathing, of course; eyes sensitive to light. Still responsive to voice, able to answer questions; complaining of a headache, well, that was probably due to the fever anyhow. Swollen glands, body fighting infection. Tired, wanting to sleep, that was all to the good.  
  
A tap at the door and Pansy was there. He greeted her with relief; she was one of the best watchers in the Hall.  
  
'The Master seems to have come down with a fever,' he said, striving for calm. 'It's to be expected, he is weakened from the worry of the past months. I'm afraid he'll need to stay abed awhile longer, and he'll be wanting watchers.' She nodded, taking a seat by the bed and placing her hand on one of Merry's hot ones.  
  
'I'll send someone to you... whom do you prefer?' Robin asked.  
  
Without looking up from her cousin's face, Pansy answered, 'Primrose would be fine. I believe she's working in the kitchen today, helping to plan menus.'  
  
'Very well. I will send her to you; the two of you can take the first watch. I'll bring cloths and cool water, as well, but let the fever do its work. Don't sponge him unless he gets restless, or complains more of his head. If he does start to complain or thrash about, fetch me. O, and keep him drinking.'  
  
Pansy nodded as she catalogued his instructions, already familiar with the procedure for watching with a fevered patient, but no harm in going over it again. 'We'll be fine,' she said. 'Would you tell my husband that I'm busy? He'll probably be in the Master's study with Berilac and Doderic by now, they were to discuss the water shortage.' The healer nodded in his own turn and left the room.  
  
He found Merimas in the study as his wife had indicated, though the other two had not yet arrived. He informed Merimas of the situation, concluding, 'Tell Berilac and Doderic that everything is fine for the moment, it means the Master will have a bit more rest than he otherwise would have tolerated. We need to keep the Mistress away, however. I do not want her exposed to this fever.'  
  
'Right,' Merimas said. 'Tell Pansy I'll make sure the children are looked after whilst she's occupied.'  
  
'It could be several days,' the healer warned. 'She won't want to expose your children to the fever until it has run its course. She'll probably sleep in the other room when she's not on watch.'  
  
'Of course,' Merimas said. 'What's the matter with you, Robin? You act as if we've never dealt with a fever before.'  
  
Robin let that pass, not willing to admit the worry he was feeling. 'Just keep Estella away,' he said, and left the study.  
  
Fever swept through the population of Brandy Hall despite the healer's precautions, and the rest of Buckland as well, swift-moving, undiscriminating, mowing down hobbits even as they worked at their tasks. One hobbit farmer felt as if his plow ponies had suddenly kicked him in the head; he fell to his knees, calling to his eldest son. When no answer came, he painfully turned his head to see the lad lying in the dust behind him. The farmer managed to crawl to his son, urge him up, and each supporting the other, they staggered to the ponies, unhitched them from the plow, somehow managed to crawl upon their backs, and rode to the farmhouse, to be greeted with alarm by the farmer's wife and daughters. They were put immediately to bed, and cared for until the next day, when the rest of the household was stricken. The farmer's wife, fighting headache and malaise, bedded her family down together on blankets on the kitchen floor, a half bucket of water and dipper within reach. She wondered what they would do when the water was all drunk up. This scene was repeated all through Buckland.  
  
Healer Robin opened his eyes to see a pale and shaky Pansy Brandybuck sitting by his side. 'I thought I ordered you to bed,' he whispered.  
  
She gave him a ghost of her usual smile. 'That was four days ago,' she said. She wrung out a cloth in cool water and placed it on his forehead. 'You fell ill the day after.'  
  
'How long?' he asked.  
  
'The fever seems to run its course in three days or so. You ought to be able to get up tomorrow, or even today if you're careful. You'll find yourself weak as a kitten.'  
  
'How many?' the healer asked.  
  
'The whole Hall, none's been spared. The fever has swept through Buckland like a scythe to the harvest,' Pansy answered.  
  
'The Mistress?' he gasped.  
  
She nodded, 'Yes, Estella, too. We've kept her fever down with tepid baths, though she protested the waste of water. She's recovering nicely, and has shown no other problems.' There had been no threat of losing the unborn babe, not yet, anyhow, and Pansy was hopeful, for Estella had carried this one longer than all except the son she'd birthed.  
  
'How about the Master? He was one of the first ones stricken.' Pansy didn't answer, and Robin tried to sit up in his alarm, stopped by the stabbing pain in his head.  
  
'Stay down,' she soothed. 'It seems you're not quite ready to get up yet.'  
  
She pulled the cloth away, felt it, said, 'It seems you don't need this any longer. You're not warming up the cloths the way you were. I think your temperature's staying down.' She went on. 'We've turned the great room into an infirmary of sorts; moved the tables out and packed hobbits in on the floor. You can hardly move without stepping on someone, but it's allowing a very few to take care of a great many.'  
  
'Good thinking,' he said. 'Now tell me about the Master.'  
  
She hesitated, then said, 'His fever broke yesterday.'  
  
'So he's up? First thing, I'd expect.'  
  
Pansy shook her head. 'You'd expect that... but he just lies there. He doesn't move or talk, and his hand is as cold as ice. We don't know what to do.'  
  
'Has anyone sent for the Thain?'  
  
She shook her head. 'No one's well enough. And what if we were to spread the fever to the rest of the Shire? Berilac gave orders to lock the Gates to keep people from going in and out, as soon as it was apparent that more were falling ill than just Merry and Primrose and myself.'  
  
Robin sighed. 'You're right,' he said. 'I would have given the same orders myself.' He struggled upright, the head pain not so bad. 'Get me something to drink,' he said, 'then help me up. There's work to be done.'  
  
***  
  
As soon as he was able to leave his bed, the Thain checked on his steward and chancellor, then made a sweep through the Smials to find all who had weathered the fever. Once he had collected all he could find of wan, staggering hobbits in the courtyard, he had a meal of sorts served while he gave the group their orders. A few were to stay in the Smials, tending the sick. Healer Woodruff had moved all the sick she could fit into the great room of the Smials, for the ones tending the sick were those who'd weathered the fever themselves; they were too weak to be traipsing from room to room, and there were not enough hobbits on their feet at the moment to put a watcher at every bedside.  
  
The hobbits sat and munched their sandwiches in the morning sunshine while the Thain spoke. Most were to take ponies and ride throughout Tookland, checking each farmstead and rendering aid as needed. Some were to go house to house in Tuckborough with the same design. He sent messengers to the Mayor in Hobbiton and to Michel Delving, with the caution that they should not approach any other hobbit, but shout their news of the fever that had devastated Tookland.  
  
Leaving a shaky Reginard in charge, he mounted his own pony; he would take the news to Buckland himself. Shout the news to the hobbit running the Ferry, ask after Merry, survey the parts of Tookland he'd pass through along the way.  
  
Pippin had to stop at the Crowing Cockerel, only halfway to Buckleberry Ferry. The afternoon heat made his head swim, and he sought the darkened inn with relief. No meals were being served, of course, for the fever had swept the innkeeper's family and guests who'd been there at the time the illness struck, but the innkeeper's wife had managed some thin soup, and she shared it with the Thain. Pippin rested through the heat of the afternoon and early evening, setting out again when darkness fell.  
  
He reached the Ferry to find no hobbits on duty, and none coming at his call. The Ferry was tied up on the Buckland side of the River, no use for it, but to ride to the Bridge, though he chafed at the extra miles.  
  
Near dawn he crossed the Bridge and came to the North Gates of Buckland, only to find them locked tight, and no guards about. The door to the guardhouse on the outside of the gates was also shut and barred, the windows shuttered. Shouting brought no response. Now what was he to do? He fought down the uneasy feeling, trying to think how he could get over the gate in his weakened condition.  
  
Hearing hoofbeats behind him, he turned to see a tall guardsman in livery of the King, who rode up to the Gates and swung down.  
  
'Bergil!' he said. 'Don't come any nearer!'  
  
The other stopped. 'Pippin? What is going on? I came late yesterday to bring the King's message to the Shire, but could find none to receive it. I camped in the wood across the way and was preparing to ride back this morning, when I heard your shout.'  
  
Pippin said, 'Something's badly wrong. We've pestilence in the Shire, Bergil.' He sighed, considering. 'You may have already been exposed to it, just being this close to me. I'm afraid you'll need to remain here a few days until we see if you come down with the fever; no use carrying it to spread throughout Bree and the King's party.'  
  
Bergil walked up to him. 'Well, if I'm exposed already, then there's no use in shouting at each other. We might as well sit down and be comfortable, especially as you look as if you'll fall down at any moment.' He suited action to words and tied up his horse, then seated himself on the ground. 'Sit down, Pippin. You worry me.'  
  
Pippin sat down, his back to the Gates.  
  
Bergil eyed him with concern. 'First famine, then pestilence?'  
  
'Yes,' Pippin nodded. 'I'm beginning to wonder if hobbits have served their purpose and are no longer wanted in Middle-earth. Frodo threw the Ring in the Fire and departed over the Sea. Now it's time for the rest of the Shire to go.'  
  
'Don't tell me you're about to go fall on your sword,' Bergil said.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'No, too messy, and besides, there's none here well enough to bury me.' He tried to shrug some of the ache from his shoulders. 'Unless you'd like to do the honours.'  
  
'Couldn't I just throw you in the River? That would be a lot less work. I cannot see digging in all the heat we've had here lately.'  
  
'And foul the water? Really, Bergil, what are they teaching guardsmen these days? You're to dispose of bodies properly after a battle, you know that.' Pippin hauled himself to his feet. 'I have got to get in there, find out what is happening in Buckland.' He looked at Bergil. 'Can you climb over the Gate? I've done it before, but...'  
  
Bergil stared back in astonishment. 'Climb over?' he said. 'What about the King's edict?'  
  
Pippin smiled slightly. 'I won't tell anyone, if you don't.' He gestured. 'Come on, Bergil, 'twill be like old times, just up and over, release the bars, let me in, no one the wiser.'  
  
'There could be fifty hobbits on the other side, waiting to have my hide,' the guardsman protested.  
  
'I doubt it. They would have heard my shout,' the Thain said soberly.  
  
Bergil took a deep breath. 'All right,' he said. Getting up, he untied his horse and led it to the gates, climbing up to stand on the saddle; from there it was easy enough to clamber over and drop on the other side. He released the bars and swung the heavy gates open. 'Not a soul in sight,' he said.  
  
The door to the guardhouse on the Buckland side of the gate stood open, and Pippin motioned Bergil to follow him. As they approached the doorway, a hobbit with a shirriff's hat crawled into sight.  
  
'Stop there,' the shirriff said weakly. 'No Men are allowed in the Shire, you ought to know that.'  
  
Pippin reached him in another stride, he and Bergil lifted him to sit him against the wall of the guard house. 'And what are you going to do about it, Hob Hayward?' he asked.  
  
'I'll call a group together to deal with him,' the other gasped.  
  
'Deal with him how?' Pippin said, holding his own water bottle to the other's lips.  
  
The shirriff took a drink, then said, 'O, I dunno. Breathe on him, I suppose. Fever'll take him down faster than arrows, I think.' His eyes widened. 'You're not supposed to be here,' he said accusingly. 'The Steward ordered the gates barred. You'll spread the fever to the rest of the Shire.'  
  
'Too late,' Pippin said. 'No use locking the stable doors, the ponies are all out already.'  
  
'How bad is it?' Hob said.  
  
'About as bad as Buckland, I'd imagine.' Pippin said. He straightened. 'I've got to get to the Hall. Bergil, can you care for the guards here? I'm sure they'll care for you as well, if the fever strikes you down in the next day or two.'  
  
'That's a comfort,' Bergil said. He bent nearly double to fit through the door. 'How many of you are there?'  
  
'Half a dozen,' Hob answered. 'We're all laid out on the floor together, as you can see.'  
  
'When did you eat last?' Bergil asked.  
  
Hob shook his head. 'I don't remember.'  
  
'Right,' Bergil said. He ducked back out of the guardhouse. 'I have some dried meat and other travel rations in my pack,' he said. 'I'll make them a soup of sorts. You go on to the Hall, if you're well enough.'  
  
Pippin nodded. 'I'm well enough. I'm on my feet, aren't I? That's more than most hobbits of the Shire can say at the moment.' Bergil helped him onto his pony, and he started down the road to Buckleberry and Brandy Hall. 


	62. Conundrum

**62. Conundrum**  
  
There were no hobbits stirring on the road or the farmsteads he passed on either side. The only moving creatures were a few listless chickens scratching in the dust, and cows gathered at a gate mooing to be milked, though no one answered their summons. Pippin saw an unattended plow left in the middle of one field, and his feelings of unease grew apace.  
  
Riding through the middle of Bucklebury, he saw no one, no hobbit lads and lasses playing in the morning sun, no laundry flapping from the lines, no hobbits going about their business in the cool of the day.  
  
The hoofs of his pony rang eerily on the quiet stones as he rode into the yard of Brandy Hall. He slid from the pony with a shout that went unanswered. He led his pony to the trough by the stable door, to find it dry. Tying up the pony in the shade, he ventured into the stables, to be met by loud complaining from the ponies there, and not a few protesting kicks against stall walls or doors, but no hobbits. Going to pat the nearest head thrust over a stall door, he took in the filthy bedding, the empty manger, the dry water bucket. The pony had not been tended in two days, perhaps three.  
  
Not having the strength to haul one water bucket, not to mention over a hundred, he did the only thing he could think of. Going down the line of stalls, he released the latches on the stall doors and swung them wide to free the ponies. There was a general stampede for the River, where the ponies jostled at the bank to drink, then turned back to crop the browning grass eagerly.  
  
Knees weak with more than the lingering fever, Pippin turned his steps to the Hall. This was much worse than Tookland. He feared what he would find within. The Hall was deathly silent. Reluctantly, he raised his voice in a shout, and was surprised to hear an answer coming from the direction of the great room. Stumbling in his haste, he hurried there, to pause on the threshold. Brandybucks and servants of the Hall were laid out from one wall to the other, crowded together with barely room for the few watchers to pick their way.  
  
One watcher said weakly to another, 'It's the Thain!' and slowly made his way to the door. Pippin almost didn't recognise Doderic Brandybuck, with his sunken cheeks and too-bright eyes. 'Have you come to bring us aid, then?' he said.  
  
'Is all of Buckland down with fever?' Pippin asked.   
  
The other nodded, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. 'The sick are tending the sicker,' he said. 'There's no one well, that I know of.'  
  
'Where's the Master?' the Thain asked.  
  
'Same bed he was in when you left,' Doderic answered. He staggered, and Pippin caught him and eased him down. 'Just need to rest a minute,' the engineer muttered. 'Then I've got to get back to work.' Pippin patted his shoulder and turned away. 'Tell Merry we're holding our own,' Doderic called after him, 'at least, we're trying to hold our own.'  
  
'Where's the Steward?' Pippin turned back to ask.  
  
'Last I saw him was in the Master's study,' Doderic answered. Pippin nodded and went to the study. Berilac might have more answers for him than Merry, if Merry was still abed. There was no one in the study, however, so he decided to look in on the Master before seeking further for the steward.  
There were no hobbits in the corridors as he walked; Pippin guessed they were probably all bedded down on the floor of the great room, or nearly all.  
  
He opened the bedroom door to see Berilac in the chair by the bed, hunched over, holding Merry's hand, talking hoarsely.  
  
'How did you get here?' Pippin asked.  
  
Berilac broke off, turned to see the Thain. 'I crawled,' he said flatly. 'No one fit to carry me here, not steady enough walking on two sticks, didn't want to fall and break a leg all over again.'  
  
'You look terrible,' Pippin said.  
  
Berilac eyed him. 'You're no tray of teacakes, yourself,' he answered. He turned back to the bed, squeezing the unresponsive hand. 'Merry,' he said. 'Pip's here.' His voice broke, and he raised his free hand to his face. 'We've lost him, Pippin,' he said. 'Whatever will I tell Estella?'  
  
Pippin moved to the bed then, as quickly as he could, scanning the occupant. 'He's breathing,' he protested. 'It's all right, Berilac, he's still with us.'  
  
The other shook his head. 'He's cold, Pippin, cold as death, and he doesn't move. He hasn't spoken since yesterday. I can't get him to drink anything. He's going to...'  
  
'No!' Pippin broke in. 'No,' he said more softly. 'We're not going to let that happen, Berilac. We're not going to let the Darkness take him.'  
  
He leaned over the bed, taking Merry's face between his hands. 'Merry,' he said. 'There are clouds to the West, first I've seen since spring. The rains will come again, Merry. And the King has wagons on the way, filled with food.' At least he hoped so. He had forgot to hear the message Bergil brought from the King. He looked to Berilac. 'Where's Estella? Is she all right?'  
  
'She's in her own bed,' Berilac answered.  
  
'Is she well enough to come?'  
  
'I don't know,' the steward said. 'I've been here since yesterday, haven't seen a soul.'  
  
Pippin nodded. 'I'll bring her if I can.' He rose a little too abruptly and had to deal with the dizziness before he could go. 'Help will be coming,' he said to Berilac. 'I left a King's messenger at the North Gate.' He looked back at Merry. 'Keep talking to him. I'll be right back.'  
  
He was as good as his word, finding Estella weak, but over the fever. He steadied her on their way to Merry's bed, warning her of Merry's condition.  
  
'It's not March!' she protested, then swallowed hard. 'I know,' she said. 'We've had this conversation before...' Stifling her fear, she asked, 'Is he gone?'  
  
'We might be able to call him back,' Pippin said. 'Failing that, the King is in Bree... his messenger waits at the North Gate. Men on horses can ride much more swiftly than hobbits on ponies... the messenger could get to Bree and the King reach the Hall in half a day, perhaps.'   
  
She nodded, thinking how much could go wrong in half a day.  
  
Entering the room, Pippin supported Estella to the bed, easing her down. She stretched out next to her husband, pressing close, putting her arms around him. 'Merry,' she said. 'I'm here now. Stay with us, beloved.' He made no sign, but continued to breathe. That was something, at least.  
  
Pippin nodded. 'I'm off,' he said. 'I'm going to ride as fast as I can to the gate and send for the King.'  
  
'Hurry,' Berilac said, and Estella added her own plea.  
  
'I'll be back as soon as I can,' Pippin promised, and left the room, and the Hall.  
  
***  
  
Bergil had stirred up soup using dried meat and a packet of dried vegetables he'd been carrying, for a good soldier always keeps food on hand, in case of unforeseen events. He added extra water to stretch the amount to feed the six ill hobbit guards as well as himself. Several of them were too weak to feed themselves, so he and Hob Hayward propped them up and fed them. None seemed to notice that there was a Man in the room, helping the Shirriff to care for them.  
  
They had left the gate open, and when he had just finished feeding the last hobbit and wrapping him in blankets against the fever chills that shook him, Bergil heard the clatter of horses without. A rough voice shouted, and he recognised a sergeant from the King's guard. Sighing, he rose and walked out of the guardhouse to the gate.  
  
'What're you doing there, Bergil?' the grizzled old guardsman asked in consternation. 'You know better than to pass the gateway!'  
  
'The hobbits are in the middle of an epidemic, Terlon. Keep back! Don't you see the quarantine sign?'  
  
The sergeant swore. 'Quarantine? What're you doing there, then?'  
  
'I was exposed outside the gate when the Ernil i Pheriannath rode up,' Bergil explained. 'He asked me to help, so if I'm in violation of the King's edict, well, then, he is as well, since he's the one who invited me in.'  
  
'How long did he say you'd have to stay?' Terlon asked.  
  
'A few days, at least.'  
  
'The King sent us to find why you didn't return in the middle night,' the sergeant said. 'He's a bit on edge. Sent us off at a right smart pace. Wouldn't be surprised to see him turn up himself later.'  
  
'Well, I--' Bergil broke off at a shout behind him. Turning, he saw a hobbit lad on a plow pony, riding with no saddle and only a rope from the halter to guide the beast.  
  
'Help!' the lad shouted again. 'Please help us...' Bergil caught him as he fell from the pony, fever-glazed eyes staring into the tall guardsman's.  
  
'What is it, lad?' Bergil said.  
  
'We're out of water. I couldn't haul the bucket from the well, 'tis too heavy. Marigold's pleading for water something awful, and I cannot get Dad to answer me, nor Mum either. Please help...' the young hobbit's voice trailed off but his eyes kept pleading. Bergil looked up at the sergeant helplessly.  
  
'The King's edict...' the sergeant said slowly. 'O... _hang_ the King's edict, and the King for that matter, if it comes to that... at least, I'll be hung if I'm going to stand by and do nothing.' He crossed the gap between the guardsmen and Bergil, crouching to address the young hobbit. 'Show us where you live, lad,' he said. 'We'll get water from the well for you.' Turning, he shouted at the guardsmen to send one of their number back to Bree to tell the King, the others to mount their horses, ride through the gate and bring his horse along. 'You stay here, Bergil,' he said. 'If anyone else happens by, you can tell them what's what.' He placed the young hobbit on the saddle before him and the group of guardsmen started down the road into Buckland.


	63. All the King's Horses and All the King's...

**63. All the King's Horses and All the King's Men**  
  
The lad had come from a farmstead very near the North Gate. The guardsmen swung down from their horses, and soon the sergeant had one hauling water from the well, two others tending the lowing cows, another checking the other buildings while he ducked through the low door to the farmhouse, carrying the lad. He found the hobbits together on the kitchen floor, an empty bucket and dipper nearby, a young hobbit lass moaning for water. As the water-hauling guardsman handed the brimming bucket through the doorway, the sergeant put the lad down, took up the dipper, lifted the lass gently, and coaxed her to drink. She drank deeply and sighed. He laid her gently down and moved around to give water to each of the other hobbits.  
  
He found some loaves of stale bread in the pantry, and when one of his men brought two buckets of milk to the house, he broke up the bread and set the pieces to soak in a large (by hobbit standards) bowl of still-warm milk, then he and the other guardsman fed the mixture to the hobbits, the sergeant feeling all the while as if he were playing at dolls. The farmer wakened slightly, eyes widening to see Men in his house. 'Ruffians,' he gasped.  
  
'No, Sir, we are King's messengers, sent by the King to aid you,' the sergeant said. It wasn't exactly true, but it seemed to calm the farmer and that was what was most important. Besides, he was sure the King _would_ have sent aid, had he known the situation here.  
  
'The animals are fed and cared for, Sergeant,' one of the guardsmen ducked to say through the door. 'What shall we do next?'  
  
They were already in for it, might as well keep on the way they'd started. 'We'll go on to the next farm,' the sergeant answered, 'and keep going, as long as we find folk needing our help. Mount up, I'll be right there.'  
  
They worked their way from farm to farm. When they came to the split in the road, one branch going off towards Newbury and the other towards Bucklebury and Brandy Hall, the sergeant divided his men so that a group could follow each branch. They hadn't found any dead, yet, but some of the hobbits were poorly enough that the grizzled old guardsman felt compelled to continue his self-imposed mission until either this mysterious fever, or the King's wrath, felled him, whichever came first.  
  
Pippin, on his way back to the North Gate, did not did not notice the tall horses tethered in one of the farmsteads he passed. He found Bergil leaning against one side of the guardhouse doorway, his hand dwarfing a glass of brandy which he sipped appreciatively. Hob Hayward was propped against the wall on the other side of the doorway with his own glass.  
  
'You know, Thain, Men aren't so bad once you get used to them,' Hob said conversationally as the Thain slid down from his pony.  
  
'How much brandy have you had?' Pippin said sternly.  
  
Bergil laughed. 'Not that much,' he answered. 'I think the fever gives it more effect.'  
  
'I'm drunk as a Brandybuck,' Hob said solemnly. 'It's the best I've felt in days.'   
  
'Did you see the other guardsmen?' Bergil asked Pippin.  
  
'What other guardsmen?' Pippin said in answer. 'Just how many Men have broken the King's edict besides yourself?'  
  
'A few,' Bergil said evasively. 'A lad rode up to beg our aid, and how could we ignore him? Besides, you already invited me in, and...'  
  
'I invited you in, not half the Men in Middle-earth!'  
  
'O it's not that many,' Bergil said easily. 'Not quite, anyhow.'  
  
Shaking his head in exasperation, Pippin said, 'I've got to get a message to King Elessar. I hate to send you to Bree and break quarantine, but perhaps you can shout a message without coming close to anyone.'  
  
'I can do better than that,' Bergil answered. 'There's already a messenger on the way to Bree, and I imagine the King will make haste to come.' He caught Pippin as he sagged in relief and eased him down next to the Shirriff. 'You're not well,' he said worriedly. 'Let me get you some brandy.'  
  
Pippin did not protest, and sipped at the glass that Bergil pressed into his hand. 'How soon do you expect the King?' he asked.  
  
'Mid-afternoon at the earliest,' Bergil said. 'The messenger went off at a good pace early this morning.'  
  
Pippin nodded, putting down his glass half-finished, resting his head on his knees. 'I think I'll take a little nap,' he said faintly. 'Waken me when he comes...'  
  
Bergil had coaxed water into the sick hobbits twice more when he heard the sound of horses. Thinking Terlon had returned, he came out of the guardhouse, only to be confronted by a large group of horsemen halted just outside the gateway. Just then, Pippin stirred and called his name. He crouched.  
  
'Bergil, just what was the message you brought us?' the Thain murmured. 'I forgot to ask, earlier.'  
  
'The King sent this _messenger_...' said a stern voice, 'to tell you that wagons of food are on the way from Rohan and will be here in less than a month.' Bergil looked up to see King Elessar himself standing in the gateway, glaring. 'But what good is a message if it is not delivered?'  
  
'I'm sorry, Sir,' Bergil said humbly. He wondered what the punishment was for an unfaithful messenger, expulsion from the guard? or merely a flogging?  
  
'And why are you standing on the wrong side of the gateway?' the King asked, his voice ominously soft.  
  
'O that's my fault, Strider,' Pippin said weakly. 'I needed a bit of help, and he was the only one handy at the time.' He started to slide sideways, and Bergil caught him and eased him to the ground. King Elessar strode through the gateway at once, to crouch by the Thain. Pippin opened his eyes again and said, 'Glad you're here, Elessar, I need to ask you to break your own edict...'  
  
'Seems as if I already have,' the King answered wryly.  
  
'It's Merry,' Pippin said. 'The old trouble's come back, and with the famine and the fever I'm afraid we're losing the battle this time.' He took a deep breath, fighting dizziness, and said, 'You didn't happen to bring any athelas with you?'  
  
'The old trouble?' the King asked, puzzled.  
  
'O you know, Strider,' Pippin said, irritated. 'The Black Shadow, of course. He fights it every March, but it's always dogged his steps, you told him yourself he'd have to be careful... or was that Frodo who told him that?' He shook his head. 'If things would just stop spinning I might be able to sort out my thoughts...'  
  
'He's feverish,' Bergil said. 'He said he was over it, but he might have tried to do too much too soon.'  
  
'Where is Merry?' the King asked.  
  
'Brandy Hall,' Pippin answered. 'I'll take you there.' He tried to rise and staggered.   
  
The King caught him and lifted him up. 'I think I will be the one to take you there,' he said. 'You just tell me where we're going.' He raised his voice to address the guardsmen. 'The rest of you stay here and guard the gate. Send my horse and Bergil's through the gateway.'  
  
The King mounted, holding Pippin, and Bergil swung into his own saddle. 'Down this road, I assume,' Elessar said.  
  
'O aye,' Pippin breathed. 'Take the right fork when you come to it, and as you ride through Bucklebury you will turn off the road to the right to get to Brandy Hall. Just in case I don't happen to be with you when you reach that point,' he added, putting a hand to his aching head.  
  
'We'll do our best not to get lost,' the King said. Their horses surged down the road in the afternoon heat, as fast as the riders dared to push them.


	64. The Hands of the King

A Word or Three from Our Sponsor...  
  
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As far as this story, "At the End of His Rope", goes, you may look for a new chapter every day this week, I have written a little ahead but will keep adding the chapters one at a time as I proof them. Look for new chapters this week in "FireStorm" as well, though it is taking more time, as I am still doing research, but I hope to add a new chapter at least every other day, unless the Muse gets out the firehose again and starts pouring out ideas faster than I can type them.  
  
And now, back to the story at hand, wherein the Healer makes a house call...  
  
***  
  
Chapter 64. The Hands of the King  
  
They caught up with the detail of guardsmen halfway to Bucklebury, or at least, the half of the detail that had taken that branch of the road. The King spurred his horse to the sergeant's side. 'I see we are not the only two in violation of the King's edict,' he said grimly.  
  
The old sergeant met his eyes steadily. 'If you'd seen the sights my eyes have seen this day...' he began. 'You may put me to the sword, if you like, Sir, but be good enough to wait until we've done all we can for the Pheriannath.' He looked away, and a haunted expression crossed his face. 'We've not found a healthy one, yet,' he said. 'None dead, but they may be soon, without help. Animals left starving in barns, too.' He looked back to the King. 'Did you bring any more guardsmen with you, Sir?' he asked. 'It's a big country, for all that Little People live in it, and we haven't even reached the end of this little piece of road yet.'  
  
Pippin stirred in the King's arms, speaking weakly in response. 'Tookland's not so bad off as Buckland,' he said. 'But I've no idea what's happening in other places.'  
  
The King made a difficult decision. 'Send one of your men back to the gate,' he told the sergeant. 'Tell them to cross the Bridge and start working their way South, West, and North, following the roads they find, helping as many as they may. If we can get some of the hobbits on their feet, they can begin helping their own.'  
  
'They're to cross into the main part of the Shire?' the grizzled guardsman said carefully. He wanted to be absolutely sure of his orders.  
  
'That's right,' the King said. 'I'm issuing a new edict, for the duration of the emergency. Now carry on.'  
  
'Yes, Sir!' the sergeant saluted, sent off one of his men northwards, then turned off to the next farmstead along the road. Elessar and Bergil spurred their horses on towards the Hall.  
  
They passed through silent Bucklebury, and Pippin was awake enough to tell them when to turn off for the Hall. Clusters of ponies grazed near the Hall as they rode into the yard and dismounted. The King detailed Bergil to haul water from the well in the courtyard to fill the trough for their horses to drink, then asked Pippin, 'Do you think you can walk?'  
  
'Put me down,' Pippin answered. 'I've rested, I'll be all right for the nonce.' He led the King to the main entrance to Brandy Hall. The huge doors allowed the King to enter with the merest ducking of his head, and as long as he was careful not to walk into the hanging lamps, he crossed the entry hall without difficulty, though he had to walk bent over when they reached the corridor.  
  
He crouched to enter the guest room where Merry rested, and the room seemed suddenly crowded, though it held only Berilac, Pippin and the King, and of course, the bed with Merry in it, Estella curled by his side. The King knelt by the bed, took up Merry's hand and stayed very still, as if listening. He put a gentle hand to the forehead, lifting the eyelids with a careful thumb, peering into the depths of each eye.  
  
'I will need a basin of hot water,' he said finally.  
  
Estella nodded and rose from the bed. 'I am well,' she said to Berilac. 'I've had a good rest.' She left the room.  
  
The King bowed his head, hand still on Merry's forehead, and stayed without moving for long moments. Pippin and Berilac watched in suspense, hardly daring to breathe. Then Elessar began to murmur softly in a language they did not know, saying Merry's name at intervals.  
  
Estella returned with a basin and a steaming kettle. Putting the basin down on the table, she carefully poured the hot water into it and stepped back to the bed. 'How is he?' she whispered.  
  
The King smiled. 'He hasn't given in, yet. He is still fighting.' He took some dried leaves from a pouch that hung from his neck, breathed on them as he held them in his hands, crumbled them and cast them into the water, holding the basin before Merry's face for him to breathe the steam. The fresh, living fragrance of athelas filled the room, and the recovering hobbits felt their heads becoming clearer and their aching muscles ease.  
  
The King placed his hand on the Master's forehead again. 'Merry,' he said quietly. 'It is time to waken. Return now, and walk in the light.'  
  
Merry took a deep breath, then another, and the anxious hobbits saw colour start to steal into his face.  
  
'Merry?' Estella breathed. 'Beloved?'  
  
Merry stirred, opened his eyes, and smiled at his wife. 'Hullo, my love,' he said. 'Is it time to get up now?' 


	65. A Sip of Royal Tea

65. A Sip of Royal Tea  
  
Estella led Elessar and Bergil down to the kitchen in search of food for Merry, Berilac, and Pippin. Looking in the door, she saw Nasturtium Brandybuck tiredly mincing beef at one of the tables. 'Wait here,' she whispered to the Men. Auntie Nasty with a knife was not one to disturb lightly, especially if she were to get the idea that the ruffians had returned.  
  
'Nasturtium?' she said, entering the kitchen.  
  
The old hobbit matron looked up, wiping back an errant curl with the back of one hand, and answered wearily. 'Yes, dear, how may I help you?'  
  
'Auntie, there are some Men in the Hall, come to help us,' Estella said as soothingly as she could.  
  
The other stiffened, knife coming up. 'Men?' she asked suspiciously.  
  
'Yes, dearest Auntie, the King himself has come, and one of his guardsmen.'  
  
'How do you know it is the King, and not one of those scurrilous ruffians come back, saying he's the King, to trick us?' Nasturtium growled.  
  
Estella smiled reassuringly. 'Because my husband is a good friend of the King's, you know, and he was very happy to greet the King just now.'  
  
Nasturtium was not satisfied. 'I thought that King-fellow had issued some sort of order or other banning all Men from the Shire,' she said truculently.  
  
'O he did, but he has suspended it during this epidemic, you see,' Estella said smoothly. 'He has ordered his guardsmen, fine upright fellows they are, to help wherever they can.'  
  
'Well, I can't say that we cannot use the help,' Nasturtium grumbled, slightly mollified.  
  
Estella raised her voice slightly. 'King Elessar,' she called. 'Come in, please. I would like to present to you the head pastry chef at Brandy Hall, Nasturtium Brandybuck.' Nasturtium put the knife down, wiped her hands on her apron, and preened as the King ducked through the doorway, followed by Bergil. Thankfully the kitchen had high ceilings, allowing the Men to stand comfortably upright once they'd entered.  
  
'At your service, and your family's,' Nasturtium simpered, with a surprisingly graceful courtesy for one of her bulk.  
  
'I am honoured to meet you,' the King said gravely in return. 'You must be a jewel among hobbits to be elevated to the position of head pastry chef of Brandy Hall.'  
  
'O Sir,' Nasturtium actually blushed as Estella stared in astonishment.  
  
Elessar added, 'May I present one of my guardsmen, Bergil, a friend of the Thain.' Nasturtium bobbed to Bergil, a more casual acknowledgment fitting his lower station.  
  
The King surveyed the makings on the tables: large jars filled with minced beef, empty jars waiting, more meat in the process of being minced. Large kettles of water were heating on the stoves. 'Beef tea?' he said, nodding. 'Very strengthening, just the thing for recovering from a fever.'  
  
Nasturtium nodded back. 'It is not my usual area of endeavor,' she said, 'being a pastry cook and all, but I'm the only one on my feet at the moment.' She brushed her forehead with the back of her hand and swayed.  
  
'But you are still not completely recovered, I think,' the King said with a meaningful look at Estella. The Mistress moved forward, taking Nasturtium's arm, and guided her towards a kitchen stool.  
  
'Sit down a moment, Auntie. I'm sure these Men can help out a bit. The King's a healer himself, you know.'  
  
At a nod from the King, Bergil washed his hands, moved to the table, knelt to be at the proper working height, took up the half-sized knife, and began expertly mincing the beef.  
  
'When you finish that, there's more hanging up,' Nasturtium said. The King glanced in the direction she indicated, seeing a line of carcases hanging beyond a partially opened door. He was surprised for a moment at the abundance of meat, then realised... of course. They did not have the grass nor grain to feed the cattle, and so were slaughtering them and making use of the meat before the animals starved away to skin and bone. Nasturtium seemed to guess his thought. 'We've plenty of meat for the nonce,' she said, 'though I am sure we will miss it later.' She sighed.  
  
'I could do with a cup of tea, how about you?' Estella said.  
  
'Thankee, dearie, that would be a boon,' Nasturtium murmured.  
  
The water in one of the kettles came to the boil, and Elessar carefully lifted the kettle to pour water into the jars that were already filled with the minced beef. 'How many of these are we making?' he asked.  
  
'As many as we can,' Nasturtium added. 'We've more than two hundred here in the Hall who've been stricken, and the Steward has said we'll send extra out to the rest of Buckland as best we can.' Bergil's eyes widened, but the rhythm of his knife never paused.  
  
A hobbit entered the kitchen, steadying himself as he walked with a hand to the wall. 'Auntie,' he began, 'have you any...?' Seeing the King and Bergil, he stopped in confusion. 'I'm sicker than I thought,' he muttered. 'I'm still seeing things.' He took his hand from the wall to wipe sweat from his forehead, lost his balance, and fell flat on his face before any could leap to catch him. Nasturtium reached him first, turning him over, pulling him into her substantial lap, crooning to him.  
  
'Easy now, lad, steady, my boy. Ah, nephew, have you hurt yourself? ...you're not seeing things,' she said gently.  
  
He opened his eyes again, and the Men recognised him as Merry's cousin Merimas, who'd represented Buckland at the meeting a fortnight earlier. 'But I could swear the King is here in the kitchen,' he said, perplexed.  
  
Nasturtium laughed, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. 'Yes, it's true, the Thain invited the King for tea at Brandy Hall!' she said, trying for a gay tone, though worry for Merimas creased her brow.  
  
'We'll have to break out the fancy cups then,' Merimas murmured. He blinked, started to add, 'Auntie, I--' but could not finish, and swooned.  
  
'That we will, lad,' the old hobbit said softly, hugging her nephew closer, while tears began to fall. She rested her face on his head and wept. Estella knelt to hug Nasturtium, murmuring words of comfort, while the King bent to check Merimas.  
  
Straightening up again, he said, 'He'll be fine, I think. He just needs to go back to bed. He wasn't well enough to be up yet.'  
  
Sniffling, Nasturtium raised her head. 'None of the watchers is well enough, really,' she said defiantly. 'But we do what we must needs do.'  
  
King Elessar nodded gravely. 'Indeed we do,' he agreed. 'Now you make yourself comfortable, and him, and we will finish making this beef tea, shall we?'  
  
'Thank you, kindly, Sir,' she whispered, easing herself down with her legs out and her back to the wall, settling Merimas' head more comfortably on her lap. The King nodded again and went to the storage room to bring out another side of beef.  
  
Estella made tea, bringing a mug to Nasturtium, then prepared a tray to take to Merry's room, a cosied teapot, sweetening, some lightly toasted bread. Elessar strained a pitcherful of the beef tea from a jar that had been steeping for some time before they'd entered the kitchen, and added it to the tray along with mugs. He forestalled Estella when she would have picked up the tray, taking it up himself and indicating that she should go before him. 'Carry on here,' he said to Bergil.  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Bergil answered, knife flashing.  
  
'If you need anything, ask my guardsman,' the King said to Nasturtium.  
  
'Thank you kindly, Sir, I will do that,' she said, dipping her head. The King of Gondor and Arnor followed the Mistress of Buckland out of the kitchen, bearing the tea tray before him.  
  
====  
  
Author's Note: If you would like to hear more of "Auntie Nasty", please see the story "Seeing Red", also found on ff.net. 


	66. A Dose of Reality

66. A Dose of Reality  
  
When Merry opened his eyes and spoke, Estella gasped and tightened her embrace fiercely, burying her head in his chest, weeping in relief. Merry patted her back, murmured soothingly, and when the storm seemed to be passing, he looked up and around the room. 'Hullo, Strider,' he said. 'Whatever are you doing here? I thought you and Pippin were at Lake Evendim. Did you come for the pony races?'  
  
Estella released him with a gasp, pulling back to stare into his face. The King took her by the arm, saying, 'I think we need to find something for your husband to eat, my dear. He must be hungry.'  
  
'Starving,' Merry amended.  
  
'Then we'll be right back,' Elessar said, firmly guiding the Mistress from the room.  
  
Merry turned to the other staring hobbits. 'What is the matter?' He asked. 'Why is everyone looking so? And what is the King doing here? I thought he'd issued an edict...'  
  
'Merry,' Berilac broke in quietly. 'The pony races were a fortnight ago.'  
  
'You jest,' Merry said. He looked to Pippin for confirmation, and his eyes narrowed. 'You look terrible, cousin. Are you sickening again?' Looking back to Berilac, he added. 'You don't look so well, yourself. Am I the only one here who's fit?'  
  
'He's not jesting,' Pippin said. 'What is the last thing you remember, Merry?'  
  
The Master bit back a protest at their serious faces, paused to consider. 'We were in the middle of harvest,' he said. 'I mean, we are in the middle of harvest, and the pony races are next week. We moved them from the First to the Twenty-second so that you could attend when you returned from the Lake... but here you are already!'  
  
'You've lost three weeks, then,' Berilac said, shaken.  
  
'Three weeks?' Merry echoed. His steward nodded.  
  
'You've been very ill, Merry, for some days. You collapsed at the late supper after the pony races, you don't remember that?' Pippin said. Merry shook his head slowly. 'You were in bed for a week after, and since then, you've had a fever. We weren't sure you would ever waken again.'  
  
'...and that is why the King is here?' Merry said.  
  
Pippin nodded. 'Partly.' He wasn't sure how much to tell his cousin at the moment, but Berilac had no such compunction.  
  
'Merry,' he began. 'We're in a bind.'  
  
'Tell me about it. I've been little enough help, if I've been sleeping the past three weeks or so.'  
  
'You worked yourself into the ground, Merry, and even after you collapsed, you kept working from your bed,' Berilac contradicted. 'You may not remember it, but you have done a great deal.'  
  
'So what is the bind we're in?' Merry asked. Taking turns, the Thain and the Steward of Buckland filled him in on the crop failure, the wells going dry, the threatened famine which was becoming reality with each passing day, and now the fever that had swept not just Buckland, but perhaps the whole Shire.  
  
'But the fever might have been a mercy in disguise,' Pippin concluded. 'Everyone's been too sick to eat much, the past week, so we have used hardly any of our stores.'  
  
'And the King has broken his own ban,' Merry mused.  
  
'Issued a new edict, rather,' Pippin corrected, 'for the duration of the emergency. He trusts his guardsmen to help and not do harm, but you know as well as I do, cousin, that we cannot count on the goodness of Men in general.'  
  
Merry nodded.  
  
Just then the King ducked into the room, bearing his tray. 'Drinks all round!' he cried cheerily, and began to pour out mugs of beef tea and hand them to the hobbits.  
  
'A fine brew,' Pippin said solemnly, sipping at his mug. 'Lovely, nearly as good as the beer at the Green Dragon. Got some body to it.' He turned his eye on the King. 'So, Strider,' he said soberly, 'Just how many Men have you loosed upon the Shire?'  
  
'About a hundred,' the King answered quietly. 'Not nearly enough, from what I've seen, but all that could be mustered.'  
  
'And will we have to feed them?' the Thain continued.  
  
Elessar shook his head. 'No, they carry their own rations with them, Pippin.'  
  
'Ah, good,' Pippin sighed. 'I'm not sure how we're to feed ourselves over the next weeks.'  
  
'We still have flocks and herds,' Berilac said. 'And there's always mud pies. They were edible enough when we were little.'  
  
'No,' Merry said. 'We probably don't have the water to spare, even though there's dust a-plenty.'  
  
'Ah, well,' Pippin said. 'I've eaten enough dust and ashes to last a lifetime, but I could manage a few more mouthfuls, I think. How long did you say before those wagons are due, Strider?'  
  
'Less than a month,' the King answered, shaken by the hobbits' nonchalant attitude, but then, they'd always been folk more likely to make a joke than bemoan a situation. 'That is,' he added, 'if the rains hold off and the roads stay dry.'  
  
'Ah,' Pippin said. 'Well we'll just have to put off hoping for rain a bit longer. It's been so long since we've had a good rain, I've about forgot what the stuff is. Water from the sky, I hear tell?'  
  
'So they say,' Berilac said, finishing his beef tea. 'Any more where that came from?' The King filled his mug again, and he nodded his thanks. 'Stuff's nearly as good as the Hall's finest,' he said. 'I feel almost as if I could get up and walk.'  
  
'Don't forget your sticks,' Pippin said out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
'You mean this stuff won't cure broken legs?'  
  
'Probably not,' the Thain said. 'But it might strengthen young hobbits enough to carry you about again.'  
  
'Well, then, what do I need sticks for?' Berilac said equably. 'You just get Doderas and Elberic back on their feet, and I'll be fine, at least until I figure out how to make these legs work properly again.'  
  
'May I?' the King asked, bending down to the Steward.  
  
'Go ahead,' Berilac said. 'Too many cooks spoil the broth, but I haven't heard anything about too many healers yet.'  
  
Pippin said darkly, 'O, I can think of lots of things to say about too many healers...' he glanced at the King, 'but in present company, I think I shall keep them to myself.'  
  
Berilac found the King's hands unnervingly large, but surprisingly gentle as they went carefully over his legs. 'You were trampled by a bull, Pippin said?'  
  
Berilac nodded. 'Yes, that's right.'  
  
The King straightened up and sat back on his heels. 'Your healer did a fine job of putting you back together,' he said soberly. 'I think you'll walk again one of these days. But don't be in a hurry.'  
  
Berilac grinned. 'Working for Merry has taught me cartloads of patience.'  
  
'Hoi!' Merry protested.  
  
His steward looked at him calmly. 'Drink your beef tea,' he said. 'I'm one mug ahead of you already.' 


	67. Object Lesson

67. Object Lesson  
  
When Merry wakened, he realised he had fallen asleep again halfway through his second mug of beef tea. He'd have sworn that he could not sleep another wink after three weeks abed. No, make that two weeks abed, though he still had no recollection of the week before the pony races.  
  
Despite the heat of the day, the October evening was chilly, and a cheerful fire burned on the bedroom hearth. The only other hobbit in the room was Pippin, concentrating on an intricate bit of carving as he sat in a chair by the hearth.  
  
Merry cleared his throat, and his cousin looked up. 'Ah,' he said. 'Welcome back. I thought you might sleep the night away.'  
  
'Why should I do that?' Merry asked wryly. 'I'd got out of the habit, you know.'  
  
'You could always get back into the habit again,' Pippin said. 'Jewel told me just the other day that he'd like to sleep through the night himself upon occasion.'  
  
'I'm sure the old pony was just making polite conversation,' Merry said. 'He often says "as one wants to hear" in hopes of getting a carrot or apple, you know.'  
  
'Tricky.' Pippin said. 'Just like his master.'  
  
'Hah,' Merry answered, finding no suitable rejoinder. Pippin continued to carve, occasionally throwing little curls of wood upon the fire. 'What are you making?' Merry asked at last.  
  
'O just a little something,' Pippin answered absently. 'Why don't you go back to sleep?'  
  
'Seems as if you need sleep just as much as I do,' Merry said reasonably. 'Didn't you say you'd been sick as well?'  
  
'I got a nap earlier,' Pippin answered. He turned the carving in his hands and began to work on the other side. Merry watched in silence until his cousin spoke again. 'Merry...' he began.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
Pippin did not look up from his work. 'You're still feeling well and hale from the effects of that athelas, you know,' he said. 'The scent lingers a long time; I fancy I smell it a little even now.' He looked up, then back at his work. 'But you'll be back to your old self soon enough.'  
  
'I am back to my old self,' Merry said, trying to reassure his cousin.  
  
'That's what worries me,' Pippin replied unexpectedly.  
  
'Worries you?' Merry said, puzzled.  
  
'That's what I said,' Pippin responded firmly. 'Your old self has shown precious little sense.'  
  
Merry was dumfounded. 'I have no idea what you are talking about,' he said slowly.  
  
Pippin looked up again and shook his head. 'I know,' he said sadly. 'But I hope you will listen to me in this.' He looked down and Merry almost missed his next words. 'Brandybucks are so stubborn.'  
  
'Tooks are worse,' Merry replied.  
  
Pippin looked up, smiling in spite of himself. 'That doesn't do you much good,' he said, 'seeing as how you're half Took.' He looked back down and dug out a bit of wood, surveyed the result, and dug out a little more.  
  
'You've never listened to me in this, cousin, but... I am going to try again. And I dearly hope I am not wasting my breath this time, I had so little breath for so long a time I begrudge every bit of it now.'  
  
'Go on,' Merry said, wondering where this was leading.  
  
'Merry, you work too hard,' Pippin said. Merry nodded. He had heard this particular lecture before from his carefree cousin. Though, come to think of it, Pippin had not been all that carefree for quite a few years, now. 'You're up early and you drive yourself until late,' he continued.  
  
The Thain sighed. 'Now I know you have a poor opinion of my father,' he said. Merry did not comment. 'He had his warts, I'll give you that, and after he became Thain and realised he had to train me up to be Thain after him, and me in my twenty-seventh year already, and terribly spoilt... he became nearly impossible to live with. But he was a wise hobbit for all that. He never worked past teatime that I can recall, yet look at all he managed. You have to admit he accomplished a great deal in the short time he was Thain.' Merry nodded. It was the truth, Paladin was legendary in the Shire. Pippin continued, 'He used to tell me, "Son, the work will still be there in the morning, 'tisn't going to sneak off in the night if we don't nail it down. And if it did sneak off, then what would be the harm?" '  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I can still hear him laugh,' he said wistfully. He gazed earnestly into Merry's eyes. 'I found it to be true, you know,' he said. 'I tried working long hours, and I realised that I could work from dawn to dawn and the work would still be there, but I'd be worse off for the lack of rest.'  
  
He bent to his carving. 'I still remember,' he said in a faraway voice.  
  
'What do you still remember?' Merry asked softly.  
  
'I still remember, he would stop working at teatime. He'd be out long before the dawn, in the fields or in the barns, with the hired hobbits, but when the sun came halfway down the sky to her rest we'd know he'd be in soon, and there'd be a scramble to finish our tasks and tidy up and put the kettle on. He had a saying, "If your troubles try to come to tea, shove them out the door and shoot the bolt!"... O, and my mother, I remember now, she'd sing a little song as she brought the tea tray into the parlour... "Work past tea, more fool thee!" '  
  
He chuckled in reminiscence. 'We would all come into the parlour to take tea with our Da, pile onto the rug by the hearth together, Da in the middle, and the stories he'd tell... he could make you laugh and cry with the same breath, or gasp with wonder until the world was filled with delight.' Merry remembered his uncle's storytelling, indeed. Pippin had inherited the gift from his father, and was passing it down to Faramir in turn, along with all the old family stories and quite a few new ones of his own experience or invention.  
  
'On nice days the whole family would go, after tea, to walk the fields and woods, or sometimes we'd have our tea all packed up in a basket and go to picnic in a meadow; the girls would make daisy crowns and Da and I would hunt bugs or lie on our backs and make up stories about the cloud shapes passing overhead.' Merry listened spellbound. This was a side of his Uncle Paladin he had never seen; his uncle had always been stiff and formal when the Brandybucks had come to call.  
  
'On winter days, we'd gather before the fire and our Da would carve toys for us... how clever his knife was... a flock of sheep and a shepherd for my little farm, a table-and-chairs for my sisters' dollhouse, a pony with a rider who would come off the saddle if you wished, or a ball within a ball within a ball, all carved from one piece of wood...' He stopped to pay more attention to his own carving for a bit, and Merry watched in silence, so deep in thought that when the fire popped and a log fell in two, he jumped.  
  
Finally Pippin looked up, and Merry was startled to see a sheen of tears in his cousin's eyes. 'Merry,' he said. 'We came so close to losing you this time. Had the King not been in the North-land...' he could not continue for a few breaths. When Merry would have spoken, he shook his head. 'No, hear me out. You have to hear me out this time, I have to make you listen. Merry,' he said, and stopped, looking down at his carving, turning it in his hands.  
  
'You work too much, and you worry too much, and when anyone takes you to task you make a joke of it,' he said at last. 'Here,' he said, suddenly tossing the carving onto the bed. Merry automatically picked it up. It was an exquisitely carved little boat, an intricate design worked into its sides, "Meriadoc Brandybuck" picked out in precise lettering, the top of the boat hollowed out. As Merry turned it in his hands, he gasped, realising what he held.  
  
'Yes,' Pippin said, nodding. 'It's for Remembering Day.' The day when hobbits remember their dead, carving boats, hollowing them out, fixing wicks and pouring in fragrant beeswax, and then at dusk, lighting the candle-boat while saying the name of the departed, and setting the boat to float down the river, to join all the other flickering boats, hobbit tradition, a way of honouring the dead.  
  
'It could easily have been made for this year,' Pippin went on. 'Thankfully not, since the King came in time. Perhaps next year...' he said, '...if you keep on going the way you have been.' He looked keenly at his cousin. 'What do you say, Merry?' he asked intensely. 'Do I light the candle and set this boat upon the River, and say your name, and sing you a song, and walk your grieving wife back to the Hall, on the Second of November this year, or the next, or do I throw it in the fire now?'  
  
'Throw it in the fire,' Merry whispered. He looked up. 'I don't know how to do any differently, Pip,' he said pleadingly. 'But I want to see my son grow up. And this new little one, if only...'  
  
'It is the "if onlies" that will bring your head down to an early grave,' Pippin said softly. 'Walk in the light, Merry. Promise me, the way you promised Frodo. Work until teatime, worry until teatime if you have to, and then set it all aside and fill your life with joy.'  
  
'I'll try,' Merry said. 'I don't know how...'  
  
'We'll all help you.' Pippin said. He got up from his chair, took the beautiful little boat from Merry's lap, and tossed it into the flames. 'All of us who love you will help.' He sat down on the side of the bed and took his cousin into a fierce hug. 'Promise me,' he whispered. 'Take joy.' There was a soft noise nearby, and Estella came in from the other room, holding their little son, to join the embrace, then Berilac, leaning heavily on Merimas and Doderic, followed by their wives, to take part as well.  
  
'I will,' Merry said. It seemed that he didn't need to go in search of joy, it overwhelmed him where he found himself, in a firelit room, in a borrowed bed, in the bosom of his family. 


	68. Hobbit Hospitality

Frodo: Re tears in eyes reading ch 67. Me too.  
  
Bookworm: Welcome back. We missed you. (Really? 10 chapters in 10 days? I really must be a compulsive writer. Or Muse must be a compulsive Muse. Or something.)  
  
Dana: Just what *was* going on in that other room. Hmmmm? Did Berilac say something when you got him off in the corner at that party the other day? Did you ply him with... brandy?  
  
Pansy: Very shrewd guesses. In this chapter, you'll see a little bit of why Pippin might have been concerned with guardsmen running loose in the Shire without any kind of protection whatsoever... poor helpless guardsmen...  
  
Xena: loved the comments. Aragorn bewildered. Yes, even after all these years, as Gandalf was fond of saying, hobbits can still surprise you.  
  
Bant: Patience. Legolas is coming. He was a bit busy... er... um... planting trees in Ithilien, I think, but he's about to jump into the story. Soon. A few chapters from now. I keep forgetting I'm writing chapter 70- something, and posting a few chapters behind so I can do some proofing before putting the chapters up. Cannot proof fresh work. Just doesn't work, brain hates everything, says "toss it all in the trash!" ...but something happens as the text ages, it mellows or somewhat. Dunno. But I can stand to read it after it has sat for a day or three.  
  
***  
  
68. Hobbit Hospitality  
  
The stable lads at the Great Smials were working their way slowly from one stall to the next, clearing out the soiled bedding and laying fresh, filling the haynets and mangers, filling the water buckets, though none was strong enough to haul more than half a bucket at a time. When the fever chills would strike a lad, he'd go out into the courtyard and sit in the sun a bit, until the chills went away, and then it was back to work, for there were many ponies to be tended yet this day.  
  
Jory, one of the eldest of the lads, who had his eye on becoming a trainer, as a matter of fact, was sitting on the stones with his back to the stable wall, letting the warm sun soak his fever-chilled bones, when he heard the clatter of pony hoofs in the courtyard. He opened his eyes and jumped to his feet, unmindful of fever aches and weariness, to see the hard-ridden pony before him, head drooping, flanks heaving, foam dripping, legs a- tremble. He strode up to grab at the bridle, ready to heap imprecations on the rider's head, when he realised the rider was fainting in the saddle, ready to fall. Shouting for help, he caught the limp body and eased it to the ground.  
  
'Steady, now,' he said to both pony and rider. The pony looked to be on the edge of collapse, about to join its rider on the stones. Two more stable lads emerged from the stable, moving slowly until they saw the pony, then racing over, only to stop, swaying, dizzy, having to grab at the pony to keep from going down themselves.  
  
'Steady,' Jory said again. 'Don't pull 'im down, he's barely on his feet as 'tis. Sammel, go and get the steward, there's somewhat gone far wrong, or I'm an elf.'  
  
'You're no elf, for sure,' Sammel gasped, and straightened cautiously. He wiped his hand across his face and started for the Smials.  
  
'Neddy, are you all right?' Jory asked. The other nodded, and Jory said, 'Take the lad, then, strip off the saddle and cool 'im out. Go slow, he's all used up. If he perks up, rub him down and give him but a few sips of water. Then go call old Tom, he'll know what else to do for the lad. That pony'll be bad sick if we don't take care.'  
  
'Right,' Neddy answered. Taking the bridle, he crooned to the shaky pony, gently walking it away.  
  
Jory tried to pull the limp hobbit to the shade but had to give up the effort. The stable lad sat down and pulled the sick hobbit's head into his lap, his body shading the other's ashen face from the sun. Jory then took his handkerchief from his pocket, soaked it in the water bucket that Sammel had carried out to the yard in his haste, and sponged the sweat away from the sick hobbit's face.  
  
The steward came out with Sammel, went to his knees when he reached them, put a hand on the hobbit's shoulder and shook him slightly.  
  
'Dinny?' he said. 'Dinny, can you hear me?' The other moaned. 'He was supposed to take the news towards Bywater and Hobbiton,' Regi said to himself. 'Dinny, talk to me, what's happened?'  
  
'Dead,' the other moaned, shaking his head. 'All dead.'  
  
Reginard felt a fist in his stomach at the implications of the other's words. Dinny had been ordered to ride the road towards Bywater until he met someone, shout the news, and return to the Smials. All the hobbits of Bywater... all in Hobbiton... dead?  
  
'All of Bywater?' he gasped aloud.  
  
Dinny shook his head, opening his eyes, face bleached with shock. 'Never got to Bywater,' he mumbled.  
  
Regi shook him gently. 'Talk to me, Dinny,' he said slowly. 'Tell me what's what.' Slowly the story came out. Dinny had not met anyone on the road to Bywater, had seen no one moving on the farmsteads between; perhaps they were all gone to Market Day, but was this the right day? The heat made it hard to think. On the outskirts of Bywater, passing a farmstead he had seen a body lying near a well. Shouting as he turned his pony into the yard had brought no response from any of the buildings. Dismounting by the body, he'd found it cold and stiff. Hurriedly searching through the buildings, he'd found more, none alive. In his horror, his only thought was to flee this place of death, return to the Smials as quickly as he could.  
  
Reginard absorbed the news. Not as bad as he'd feared, perhaps, for they did not yet know what went on in Bywater, but bad. Very bad. For all the hobbits of one farm to die, and the bodies left unburied, unnoticed... things must be very bad in Bywater.  
  
The steward made a decision. He looked down at Dinny. 'You have to walk, lad,' he said. 'None can carry you.' Dinny nodded, and between them Regi and Jory got him to his feet, helped him into the Smials, to the great room, where they laid him down.  
  
Then Regi turned to the stable lad. 'I want you to find everyone who's on his feet,' he said. 'Round them up, I'll meet them in the yard. Then start saddling ponies. The ones going door-to-door in Tuckborough ought to be back soon; tell them to grab a bite and find me.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Jory said, 'I'll go to Bywater for the search, I've family there.'  
  
'Right, lad. We've got to find out what's happening in Hobbiton, as well.' The stable lad nodded and turned away to begin gathering hobbits for the rescue party.  
  
As Reginard was taking reports from those who'd been in Tuckborough, another rider clattered into the yard, riding into the group of hobbits there, shouting, 'Ruffians! There's ruffians in the Shire!'  
  
'What?' the steward snapped, grabbing at the wild-eyed pony's bridle.  
  
'Ruffians, riding down the road from Stock.'  
  
'How many?'  
  
'More than a dozen,' the hobbit gasped. Anticipating the steward's next question, he said, 'I nearly ran into them, just past the Crowing Cockerel.'  
  
'I don't suppose the best beer on the Stock Road will slow them down any,' the steward said. He turned to Ferdibrand, who'd been apprising him on conditions in Tuckborough. 'Take a company of archers,' he said. 'You know what to do.'  
  
'Right!' Ferdi snapped back, exhaustion forgotten in the face of this new menace. He surveyed the hobbits who'd returned with him from Tuckborough, probably the only hobbits on their feet at the moment, save the watchers taking care of the fevered hobbits in the great room. 'Get weapons and ponies.' The gathering broke apart. As Ferdibrand turned away, Reginard put a hand on his arm. 'Be careful,' he said, 'and use your head.'  
  
'We won't meet them head on,' Ferdi answered. 'We'll shoot from ambush if we have to.'  
  
'Good lad,' Regi said. 'We can't take any chances.'  
  
The waiting was the hardest part. Some hours after they departed, a lone Took returned from Bywater and Hobbiton, face sober, to report more deaths from the fever. The rescuers from Tookland had been barely in time to save the Mayor and his family, and for the Mayor and several of his children, the outcome was yet in doubt. There were still farms and hobbit holes to be searched, and no hobbits fit to help themselves or others had yet been found. More help was desperately needed. Regi ordered the stable lads to saddle as many ponies as could be saddled, then went to the great room of the Smials. He clapped his hands together to gain the attention of all in the room and quietly explained the situation. Hobbits around the room staggered to their feet, to help each other out the door to the waiting ponies.  
  
Regi put his hand to his forehead, dizzy, and felt a watcher take his arm and ease him down. 'Steady, Reg,' a familiar voice said, though he couldn't have said which cousin it belonged to. 'Take a rest. We'll let you know if anything happens.' The steward nodded and let the world slide away.  
  
***  
  
One good thing you could say about the drought, one could see the approaching body of riders from some distance, just by the cloud of dust they raised. Ferdi raised his hand to halt his group of archers, and they dismounted and led their ponies into the shelter of the trees, tying them up well off the road, returning to lie hidden by underbrush, arrows nocked, bows at the ready. Ferdi sat down by the side of the road to wait.  
  
Soon he heard the soft thud of the approaching horses, the jingle of harness, and he scrambled to his feet to stand in the middle of the road, waiting. A body of mounted Men on tall horses came down the road, the leader halting the group just short of the grim-faced hobbit. There was something familiar about them, but he couldn't put a finger on it.  
  
'Have you lost your way?' Ferdi barked. 'You don't belong here. This is the Shire; no Men are allowed, by edict of King Elessar.'  
  
The leader of the ruffians swung down from his horse, tossing the reins to another. 'We're here on King's orders,' he said, approaching a few steps closer.  
  
Ferdibrand laughed sharply. 'That's a new one,' he said. 'You ruffians think to fool us that way?' He surveyed the tall Man quietly, then said, 'I suggest you get back on your horse and ride back the way you came.'  
  
'We are here to help...' the Man said.  
  
'You are covered by archers, and if you do not heed my words you will be poked as full of holes as a pincushion in a moment,' Ferdi said. He was losing patience with these great oafs who did not seem to understand the simplest concept.  
  
A hobbit came out of the underbrush, still holding his bow, to whisper to Ferdibrand. 'What's that?' Ferdi growled.  
  
'Look at their dress,' the other repeated. 'They look like the Thain, when he's wearing those fancy togs the outlanders gave him.'  
  
Ferdi took another look at the black and silver guardsman before him, White Tree of Gondor outlined on his surcoat, ridiculous-looking winged helm on his head, not like sensible hobbit headgear at all.  
  
'Where did you say you come from? Speak quickly!' he snapped.  
  
'We are a part of the King's guard at Fornost,' the other said. 'The Ernil i Pheriannath appealed to the King for aid. King Elessar himself is at Brandy Hall.'  
  
'The... who?' Ferdi said, annoyed. The other hobbit whispered, 'That is what they call the Thain. I suppose "Thain" is too difficult for them to say.'  
  
The Man smiled at the hobbits' bold contempt; he was reminded of small snarling dogs who'd fight to the death against much larger adversaries to defend their masters.  
  
'Yes,' he added. 'The King is with your Thain at Brandy Hall.'  
  
'What proof can you show me? Do you have any token from the Thain?' Ferdi demanded.  
  
The guardsman was taken aback. He'd received orders to enter the Shire and render aid, but no instructions on how to deal with surly hobbits. All they'd encountered thus far had been too sick to do more than widen their eyes, if they were awake enough to recognise that it was a Man and not a hobbit helping them. 'There was no time for... tokens,' he said cautiously.  
  
'Well,' Ferdi said, considering, 'You've a lot of nerve, riding around here without leave.' He made a decision. 'We had better escort you to the steward, let him decided what to do with you.' He eyed the guardsman. 'You're not safe, in any event, riding about Tookland without an escort. Tooks are likely to shoot first and ask questions later. You're just lucky you ran into us first.'  
  
He gave a whistle, and waited. Bemused, the guardsman waited as well, his men exchanging amused glances at the quandary their sergeant was in. Amusement faded as more grim-faced hobbits holding bows emerged from cover, leading ponies, to assemble before them. The guardsmen had heard enough legends of Shire bowmen sent to defend the North-kingdom long years past, not to take these lightly.  
  
'Right,' Ferdi said brusquely. 'Half of us will ride ahead, just to keep hobbits from mowing you down from ambush, and half will ride behind you, just to make sure none of you ruffians... or King's Men, or whatever you may be... gets lost.' A hobbit brought his pony over and he mounted, the escort formed quickly, and at a signal from Ferdibrand, the group started for the Smials.  
  
***  
  
Reginard felt his shoulder shaken, forced his eyes open. 'What is it?' he mumbled. His brother Everard helped him sit up.  
  
'You'll never believe it,' Everard said.  
  
'Don't play games with me, Ev'ard,' Regi snapped. 'My head is about to fall off. Speak plainly.'  
  
'Ferdi's caught a great lot of black-garbed ruffians, evil looking creatures, indeed. He's got them sitting in the middle of the yard right now, and awaits your pleasure.'  
  
'Help me up,' Regi said, and though Everard was hardly any steadier on his feet, he managed to haul his brother upright. Supporting each other, they staggered out of the Smials.  
  
'Well, Ferdi?' Reginard said when he reached him. 'They're a scurrilous looking lot, but better dressed than the last bunch of ruffians we chased away.'  
  
'They say they're from the King and the Thain,' Ferdi growled. 'But they have no token.'  
  
Regi straightened up from Everard's support and stalked over to confront the ruffians. 'What do you have to say for yourselves?' he asked. 'We told you ruffians what would happen if you ever returned. What's to stop us from shooting you down where you stand?'  
  
He measured them with a grim eye, tall, proud Men, not skulking like those others. Not easily cowed, from the look of them. Wary, but none had put hand to sword, and their leader was keeping good order. And their uniforms... they looked just like the Thain's mail. That White Tree, there...  
  
'We are King's Messengers,' the sergeant repeated patiently. He had a feeling that impatience would have serious consequences.  
  
Reginard nodded. 'Ferdi,' he said. 'There's bad trouble in Bywater and Hobbiton. Take these... King's Messengers, up the Bywater Road. The rescuers have tacked a white cloth to the front door of every dwelling they've already searched. These... Messengers might be of some use, after all.'  
  
'All right,' he said to the leader of the ruffians. 'You came to help, you say, so we'll put you to work. But mind...' he surveyed the group grimly. 'We'll be keeping an eye on you.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the sergeant said without expression. 'Many thanks.' He managed to keep the irony out of his voice, but Reginard looked sharply at him.  
  
'You're welcome,' the steward rejoined. 'See to it that you earn your welcome, or you'll find it won't last long.' He staggered, and Everard caught him. 'Ferdi, you know what to do.'  
  
'Right, Regi. Go back to bed,' Ferdibrand said, and turned back to the sergeant. 'All right, you lot,' he said. 'Mount up. We've no more time to waste in pleasantries.' 


	69. Remembering Day

69. Remembering Day  
  
Merry stared out the window at the work crews on both sides of the River, filling barrels with water and loading them into wagons. He shook his head. 'I've never seen the River this low,' he said.  
  
Berilac answered, 'It's got a ways to go, yet.'  
  
He put his head in his hands, and Merry asked in concern, 'Are you all right?'  
  
'I'm well,' Berilac said without looking up. 'Wondering when those wagons will come.'  
  
'If we hadn't planted last week, I'd be tempted to order the seed ground and made into bread,' Merry said. 'How long since you ate last?'  
  
'Yesterday, I think,' Berilac said. 'No, the day before... was it? Might have been the day before that.'  
  
The Master nodded. 'I think you're right. The food ran out... two, no three days ago. There's just enough to keep feeding the most vulnerable,' he looked out the window again at the sweating hobbits, 'and the labourers.'  
  
'Mud pies are sounding better all the time,' the Steward said.  
  
'Perhaps for tea,' the Master answered. 'I'll ask the cooks about it, they've nothing better to do.'  
  
'Remind me why we planted that seed, anyhow,' Berilac muttered.  
  
'Because to plant is to hope for the future. To eat the seed is to admit there is no future,' Merry said.  
  
'Is there?' Berilac asked, low. Merry had no answer.  
  
A tap came on the door and Estella entered with the tea tray. 'Teatime!' she caroled.  
  
'I'm glad we still have tea,' Berilac said, raising his head. 'Reassures my stomach that my throat hasn't been cut.'  
  
'Cousin!' Merry reprimanded. He shook his head. 'Those guardsmen are a bad influence.'  
  
'Sorry, Estella,' Berilac said, accepting the tea that she poured out and sweetened. There was no milk, of course. Without fodder, the cows had gone dry.  
  
She nodded with a smile. 'I heard worse from the ruffians, believe you me,' she said.  
  
'No need for hobbits to start talking like ruffians,' Merry said sternly.  
  
Berilac took a sip of his tea, put his cup down, and leaned back, hands behind his neck, stretching his elbows out. 'O, I dunno,' he yawned. 'Big People aren't so bad, once you get used to them. They're much like our own folk.'  
  
'Only bigger,' Estella smiled.  
  
'Much bigger,' Berilac agreed.  
  
Estella poured out Merry's tea, brought it to him, moved around behind him to rub his shoulders while he drank. 'Have you eaten, love?' he said, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of her face.  
  
'Yes, dearest beloved, Auntie Nasturtium scrambled me some eggs, I've no idea where she found them, and sat me down and watched me eat every bite until they were gone.'  
  
'The guardsmen are going hungry, you know,' Berilac said.  
  
'O?' Merry looked back to the steward.  
  
Berilac nodded. 'They shared out their rations, as far as they would go. Said they'd wait with the rest of us.'  
  
'That doesn't help them recover from the fever,' Merry said, worriedly.  
  
Berilac lifted his cup. 'It's after teatime,' he said pointedly.  
  
Estella laughed, and Merry had to smile. 'Yes, cousin,' he said. 'Point taken.' He sipped his tea.  
  
'Besides,' the steward added, 'It didn't strike them half so hard as it did hobbits.'  
  
'A good thing, too,' Merry said. 'I do not know how we would have coped with a hundred delirious Big People.'  
  
'Merry,' Estella said warningly.  
  
'Yes, yes,' Merry said, throwing up his hands in surrender. 'I am done worrying for today!'  
  
'Good!' Berilac and Estella said together.  
  
Estella looked out of the window. 'What are they doing?' she said in surprise.  
  
Merry followed her glance, to the firepits with the carcases turning on spits. 'Ah,' he said. 'I gave orders to slaughter three of the Hall's flocks. Some is being roasted here in the Hall this day, all the rest of the mutton was given away in Buckland and Stock and Rushy. The people will have a Remembering Day feast if it is only to be roast mutton and brandy to wash it down.'  
  
'King Elessar has explained Remembering Day to the guardsmen?' Berilac asked.  
  
Merry nodded. 'Yes. We have made it clear that they are welcome if they remain quiet and respectful. It is, after all, the most solemn occasion of the year.'  
  
Berilac nodded. 'I have a high opinion of these guardsmen of Elessar's,' he said. 'If all Men were like them, there would be no need for the King's edict.'  
  
Estella shuddered, her hands stilled on his shoulders, and Merry knew she was remembering an encounter with other Men, ruffians. He lifted one of his hands to cover hers in silent comfort, until she regained control of herself and began to massage his neck and shoulders once again. 'It is a pity, that Men cannot be more like hobbits,' Merry agreed softly. He drained his cup, and set it down.  
  
'More, beloved?' Estella asked.  
  
He shook his head. 'No, it will be sunset before you know it and we must get ready for the ceremony.' He straightened the teacup more precisely on the saucer. 'There will be many to remember, this day.'  
  
'Yes,' Estella said softly. 'Even the guardsmen are carving boats.'  
  
'They are?' Merry said, surprised.  
  
'Yes,' Berilac said. 'I was explaining the custom to Terlon, and he must have told the others... the Big People have loved ones to remember, as well.'  
  
'And they are far away from home and loved ones,' Estella whispered.  
  
'If they remember with us, then they must feast with us as well,' Merry said suddenly.  
  
'But of course, beloved,' Estella answered. 'I shall give orders for their places to be set.' The guardsmen had found it possible to sit at table with hobbits; they just sat upon the floor, without the use of chair or bench. 'Would you like any more tea, Berilac?' she asked.  
  
Berilac shook his head, then drained his cup. 'No, thank you kindly, Mistress. I don't think I could manage another drop.' Estella nodded, collected the cups, and took the tray away.  
  
'Amazing how much more time one has, with no meals to disrupt the schedule,' Berilac said. 'Perhaps we should continue this practice after things return to normal.'  
  
'Perhaps you are delirious and should take yourself off to bed,' the Master answered.  
  
Berilac chuckled, then said, 'My escort is a bit late this day.'  
  
'Probably being corrupted by the guardsmen,' Merry muttered darkly. 'They were learning some sort of gambling game the other day.'  
  
Just then the errant Elberic and Doderas entered the study, stopping short to see the work already cleared away.  
  
'Tea's over and done with,' Merry said, not without sympathy. 'You're late.'  
  
The lads gulped, and the Master added, 'There will be a feast of mutton this evening to look forward to.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Doderas said quietly, as he and Elberic moved to either side of Berilac to lift the steward from his chair.  
  
'I'll check on the details of the feast,' Berilac said, 'and meet you by the River at sunset.'  
  
***  
  
Merry stood at the water's edge with the unlit torch, Estella on one side of him, Berilac, supported between Doderas and Elberic, on his other side. Silent hobbits, mingled with tall guardsmen, stood in a crowd around him, all turned to the West, watching the Sun as she sought her bed on this, the most solemn of days.  
  
As darkness fell, Merry lit the torch, and the faces turned to look at him and the light he held.  
  
He spoke clearly the words that were being heard all over the Shire this night. 'We gather together for remembering, as is our custom on this day. We remember those who have been lost to us since the last time we gathered so. We are here to celebrate their lives, their memory, our love which can never be lost, and the hope we share.'  
  
A farmer stepped up to him, four boats in his hands. He put three of the boats down at his feet and held the remaining boat out to the torch. All stood quiet as he lit the first wick. 'Trillia,' he said, naming his wife, and set the boat upon the water, picking up the next two, lighting them, setting them upon the water together. 'Joram, and Marigold,' he said, naming his eldest son and daughter-in-love. He picked up the last boat, cradling it a for the space of a breath, lighted the wick, and set it down. 'Rosebud,' he said, his voice breaking as he named his youngest. The rest of his children surrounded him, arms around him and each other, and escorted him to the edge of the crowd.  
  
A tall guardsman stepped up, kneeling before the Master to hold the wick of his carefully carved boat to the torch. He nodded to the Master, then turned to set his boat in the water, speaking his mother's name. Word of her death had reached him some months earlier at his post in Fornost, so far away from Gondor.  
  
One by one, hobbits and guardsmen honoured their loved ones, and the floating candle boats spread out upon the River. More flickering boats began to be seen, floating down from gatherings further upriver, and from the tributaries that flowed into the Brandywine, until the water flowing by seemed to be a River of light, reflecting the pinpoint stars in the dark skies above.  
  
Riders arriving at the Brandywine Bridge pulled their mounts to a stop and stared in wonder at the candles that had floated down the Water from Hobbiton, Bywater, Frogmorton, Whitfurrows, Budgeford, and smaller gatherings along the stream. One of the riders slipped from the saddle, to walk to the guardhouse for directions.  
  
'What is it?' Eowyn whispered, strangely moved. Faramir reached over to clasp her hand in his as they watched. Behind them, the first of the heavily laden wains creaked to a stop, the drivers strangely reluctant to shout as the River bore the flickering flotilla past.  
  
A song arose from the hobbits on the banks of the River, and scraps of words floated to the silent listeners. Eowyn's hand tightened on her husband's as she gasped. 'They honour their dead,' she said. 'Are we come too late?'  
  
'No,' came the voice of her brother, King of the Rohirrim. 'No, they say we are come in good time.' He mounted his horse again. 'They were to have feasted for the last time, this night, but now...' the King smiled at his sister. 'The Sun shall rise on the morrow to shine on new hope for the People of the Shire.' 


	70. Where the Shadows Lie

Chapter 70. Where the Shadows Lie  
  
Pippin knocked again on the shiny green door of Bag End, starting to wonder at the delay. Of course, they'd all been ill, but Meliloc had brought back the news to the Smials that all the Gamgees had survived the fever. Just as he was raising his hand to knock again, the door was jerked open and he found himself looking at the White Tree of Gondor. Looking up, he greeted Bergil with surprise and pleasure.  
  
'I was on my way back to Buckland,' Bergil said. 'Thought I'd stop off to see my hobbit-folk.' Sam and Rosie had joked about adopting the tall guardsman during their prolonged visit to Minas Tirith.  
  
'How are they?' the Thain asked.  
  
'Rose-Mum is in the kitchen,' the guardsman answered. 'I've tucked her up in the rocking chair by the hearth with a cup of tea. No one was strong enough to help her out of bed, so I told them I'd stay until things are better.'  
  
'And how is the Mayor?' Pippin asked, having noted the omission.  
  
Bergil's smile faded and he shook his head. 'He never wakened from the fever,' he said.  
  
Pippin stood very still, breath failing him. 'Sam...?' he said.  
  
Bergil said hastily, 'While there's breath, there's hope. He's still breathing, anyhow. Rose keeps talking to him. She says he'll waken when he's ready.' He swung the door wider. 'But come in, I know Rose-Mum would like to see you.'  
  
Pippin walked in, fighting the impulse to walk tip toed. Bag End seemed different, with a sad, dusty air of neglect. There was no sound of voices raised in laughter or song or cheerful conversation, no good-natured argument amongst young hobbits, no smell of bread baking or stew simmering away.  
  
They entered the kitchen, where a blanketed figure sat unmoving in the rocking chair before a cheery fire. 'Mistress Rose?' Bergil said softly.  
  
Without turning her head, Rose Gamgee said, 'I thought I told you to call me Rose-Mum, since you've no proper mum of your own. You're my lad, now, and don't be forgetting that!'  
  
'No, Rose-Mum,' Bergil said obediently, with a grin to Pippin. Fever might have taken Rose down a step or two, but she was still climbing the stairs, as they said in Minas Tirith. 'Look who's come for a visit.'  
  
'A visit!' Rose fussed. 'And me in my wrapper, and the dust thick on everything.'  
  
'I came to see you, not the dust,' Pippin said, 'though I'll draw you a picture in it if you wish.'  
  
'You scoundrel,' Rose said, 'Don't you dare! It might give the children ideas...' her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands.  
  
Bergil moved smoothly to kneel at her side, soothing her back with one of his large, gentle hands. 'Now Rose-Mum, the children are getting better each day. Young Tolman said he was hungry this morning, and you know that's a good sign. And I was able to coax some broth into Frodo-lad, though he didn't open his eyes.'  
  
'Yes,' Rose sniffed, nodding with her hands still over her face. She brought a handkerchief out from her sleeve and wiped her eyes. 'I'm being foolish, I'm afraid,' she said. 'Hullo, Pippin, though I'm not sure I'd say welcome, for a poorer welcome I cannot imagine.'  
  
Pippin moved forward to hug her, shocked at how insubstantial she felt. 'Finding you here, and out of danger, is welcome enough, Rose,' he said.  
  
'Merry-lad's with Sam right now,' Rose said, 'if you wanted to see him. Bergil thought I might need to rest my voice a bit, or perhaps he's just tired of the sound of it.'  
  
'Never!' Bergil maintained, then said, 'But look at you, you've let your tea go cold, and after all the trouble I went to.'  
  
'Hah. Seems as if you could go to a bit of trouble, all the tea of mine you drank in the White City,' Rose rejoined.  
  
'You had better make amends, Bergil, and make another cup while you're at it,' Pippin said, giving Rose's arm a squeeze and rising. 'I'll just go see Sam, now.'  
  
Rose nodded without speaking, and slowly began to rock as Bergil put the kettle on and stirred up the fire.  
  
In the quiet bedroom, Merry-lad sat holding his father's hand. He was gaunt, and wan, and dark circles haunted his eyes, but he smiled when he saw Pippin and turned to the bed, saying, 'Dad, the Thain's come to see you.'  
  
The figure in the bed stirred and sighed. 'If only I could have my wish, my one wish, to go back and find him!'  
  
Merry-lad kissed the hand he held and laid it gently on the bed, turning to Pippin with tears in his eyes.  
  
'He spoke?' Pippin said.  
  
'He stirs, on and off, but never wakens, really. He's living in Mordor, these past few days, and cannot find his way out again.'  
  
Pippin sat down. 'I'll watch with him awhile, lad. Could you go and get me a cup of tea?' The lad nodded and slowly left the room.  
  
Pippin took up the limp hand and spoke. 'Now, Sam,' he said. 'This won't do at all.' A moment later, Bergil came in with the steaming cup dwarfed by his hand. Pippin thanked him, and the guardsman sat himself on the floor next to the bed. 'How bad are things?' Pippin asked him.  
  
'Most of them are recovering. The worst off are Sam-Dad, Frodo-lad, and the little golden-haired lass.'  
  
'Goldi?' Pippin asked, his heart sinking. He had a special affection for the spirited lass. Bergil nodded.  
  
'But while there's breath...'  
  
'There's life. I know,' Pippin said. 'Many's the time I've heard it said about me when they didn't think I heard them.' Sam opened his eyes as if roused by the voices, and Pippin bent over him. 'Sam? Do you hear me?'  
  
Sam's eyes turned to him. 'Mr Frodo? I must have fallen asleep.'  
  
Pippin looked helplessly at Bergil. 'People keep calling me that... I might have to change my name.'  
  
'Is it time to go on, Mr Frodo? What I wouldn't give for a drink of water,' Sam said.  
  
'It just so happens I found some water, Sam, and I have it right here,' Pippin said gently. He took the cup Bergil poured and, lifting the Mayor, held the cup to his lips. 'Take little sips now.'  
  
The Mayor sipped and nodded. 'Got to make it last,' he said. 'Never know where we'll find more.' He sipped again. 'All right, Mr Frodo, now for it. That mountain won't come any closer with us lying about.'  
  
Pippin eased him down again. 'No need, Samwise, it's not quite time yet. You rest a bit longer.'  
  
'All right, Mr Frodo, but you watch out for that stinker. He was around earlier.'  
  
'I'll keep watch, Sam. You rest.' 


	71. Showers of Joy

71. Showers of Joy  
  
'Samwise...' Pippin said again, as Bergil propped the Mayor with pillows. 'Sam, I want you to try some of this.' He held a bowl from which steam rose. The mingled scents of simmering soup and baking bread wafted through the tunnels and rooms of Bag End.  
  
This time, Sam opened his eyes and stared unfocused at Pippin. 'Time to start?' he said.  
  
'Nearly,' Pippin said. 'Let's get some of this into you, first.'  
  
Sam obediently opened his mouth for the spoon, then closed his eyes. 'Mmmm,' he said. 'That's good. Wherever did you...' his eyes opened and he seemed to see Pippin for the first time. 'What...?' he said.  
  
'Mayor Samwise's Famous Mushroom Soup,' Pippin said. 'I got the recipe from the Mayor, himself. Good, isn't it?'  
  
'Pippin?' Sam said.  
  
'That's right,' Pippin smiled. He lifted another spoonful. 'Now, here's the old owl, gliding in to his hole with a mouse. Open wide.'  
  
Sam stared at him, then Bergil. 'When did you get here?' he asked the guardsman. 'And how? The King's edict...'  
  
'Eat your soup,' Bergil told him.  
  
'Whoowhoo,' Pippin said, in decent imitation of an owl. Sam opened his mouth, and the spoon glided in. 'Good lad, let us try that again.' He fed the whole bowlful to the Mayor, talking soothing nonsense, but with the last spoonful the Mayor put up his hand to intercept the spoon.  
  
'What is Bergil doing here? The King will have him put to the sword!'  
  
'It's all right, Sam, the King has lifted the edict for the duration of the emergency,' Pippin said. He put the bowl down and pulled the cloth free that he had tucked into Sam's nightshirt to catch any drips.  
  
'And where did you get... onions?' Sam said, his mouth reminding him of the pleasures of the soup he'd just eaten.  
  
'In the wagons that came two days ago,' Bergil said. 'I came with the wagons as well, though the King remained in Buckland.'  
  
'Wagons...' Sam said.  
  
'The food from Rohan. Do you remember? We asked the King for help.'  
  
'How did they get here so soon? I thought it would take a month for them to reach us.'  
  
'It did,' Pippin said. 'But you haven't been with us the whole time.' He laughed. 'I haven't even been with us the whole time.'  
  
'You're not making sense,' the Mayor grumbled. 'But then, you seldom do.'  
  
Pippin cocked a bright eye at Bergil. 'Do you see what I have to put up with?'  
  
Bergil chuckled. 'Perhaps you ought to stop being Thain and come back to Gondor where you can get some respect.'  
  
'Don't tempt me,' Pippin said, and Samwise actually chuckled. A rumbling sound was heard, and Pippin looked up sharply. 'What's that?'  
  
Bergil said soberly. 'Sounds like war engines, but how could it be?'  
  
Pippin abruptly rose and went to open the window. 'That smell...' he said. 'Quick, Bergil, wrap Sam up and bring him.' He was out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen, picking up Rose, striding to the front door, throwing it open, carrying her out into the front garden.  
  
'Look at the sky!' she gasped, and they gazed at the majestic clouds building ever higher as a breeze teased at their hair and a rumbling was heard in the distance. Bergil emerged with Sam just as Pippin felt the first drop on his hand. The hobbits lifted their faces to the sky, as more drops began to fall, spattering in the dust, kissing their faces with cold splashes. Pippin shouted aloud, and then they were all laughing. The Gamgee children emerged, blinking in astonishment.  
  
Pippin put Rose down upon the bench in front of Bag End, nodding to Bergil to put Sam down as well, then they went back into the house to fetch Frodo- lad and Goldi from their beds. 'Do you think this is a good idea?' Bergil said worriedly.  
  
'The fever's gone,' Pippin answered.  
  
'Yes, but mightn't this bring it back?' Bergil asked.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'It's been a long drought,' he said. 'Let us water the garden.' They carried the young Gamgees into the rain, and were rewarded to see Frodo-lad's eyes open, and Goldi's smile as the rain softly caressed her face. Other hobbits were emerging from their doors, staring up into the sky, holding out hands to catch the drops, laughing and singing and dancing.  
  
***  
  
In the Thain's study at the Great Smials, Regi had given up every pretense of work and sat staring out the window, watching the clouds roll in, building ever higher, tops crowned in dazzling white. He scarcely breathed as he saw the grey blur in the distance that meant falling rain. He heard shouts of excitement in the Smials, and pushing back from the desk, strode from the study to the Smials entrance, joining an ever-growing throng in the yard. He threw back his head at the smell in the air, that smell that comes just before the rain, and then the first drops blessed his face.  
  
His joy was such that he wept, but it didn't matter, for the tears mingled with the rain on his face, to be washed away in the downpour, as the Tooks and Tooklanders danced in the rain and sang songs of joy.  
  
***  
  
King Elessar and King Eomer sat at table in one of the pavilions on the brown-stubbled hayfield near Brandy Hall. The last report had come in not long ago, that the furthest reaches of the Shire had received wagonloads of the food from Rohan. Water was still a problem; many wells had gone dry and the hobbits were hauling water from the rivers and those streams that had not yet dried up.  
  
The unusually warm, dry weather had continued into November. This particular day had been uncomfortably hot and airless, with no breath of wind to give relief. Now as evening approached, servants looped back the tent flaps as a breeze sprung up, but the Kings, deep in their discussion, hardly noticed. Even when the first taps sounded on the canvas, they continued talking, deep in their plans to organise another shipment of food by wagon caravan. With the rivers so low, the idea of shipping more foodstuffs upriver did not seem workable, though it was a pity. Ships could carry so much more than wagons, and travelled with less waste. They'd had to feed some of the grain they were carrying to the horses that hauled the wagons, after all. However, the ship captains would not be happy to be asked to sail from Gondor all the way to the Havens now that the season of dangerous winter storms was upon them, so wagons seemed the obvious solution.  
  
The tapping became a thrum, and a guardsman poked his head into the conference to interrupt the Kings. 'Sir,' he said to Elessar. 'I think you'll want to see this.'  
  
Elessar rose and walked to the opening, to see a steady rain pattering upon the parched ground. In the courtyard were hobbits... some dancing, some waving their arms to catch the rain, some simply standing, faces raised, eyes closed, the better to feel the falling drops. A song began, and hobbits joined hands to dance in a long, snaking line, grabbing hold of bemused guardsmen and Rohirrim who stood watching, the line ever growing, the song swelling as more voices joined. Eomer saw his sister drawn into the dance, Faramir by her side, and then he saw Meriadoc, Knight of the Mark, beckon to him from among the dancers. He threw a grin at Elessar, and the two Kings allowed their long strides to carry them into the celebration. 


	72. Odds and Ends

72. Odds and Ends  
  
Gimli eyed the mark on the tree, lifting his chin to check the strength and direction of the breeze, hefting his axe, testing the edge with a thumb. Then, in a smooth, quick motion, too fast to follow, his arm moved in a blur and the axe was quivering in the target, dead center. He gave a guttural cry of triumph, turning to the elf. 'There!' he said. 'I'd like to see you do better.' He strode to the tree and jerked free his axe, testing the blade again. He'd hone it razor sharp when they finished here.  
  
Legolas lifted his bow to the ready, slowly reached for an arrow... and suddenly the arrow was no longer in his hand, but quivering in the target. The two strode forward, to find the arrow neatly dividing the cleft left by the axe. 'Shall we call it a draw?' the elf smiled.  
  
'Nay, we'll move back five more paces,' the dwarf said.  
  
'Why not make it ten?' the elf smiled.  
  
The dwarf snorted. 'Ten it'll be!' he grunted.  
  
At that moment, Carnelas came up to them, his usual smile missing. 'A messenger has come,' he said.  
  
Legolas lifted an eyebrow. 'From Greenwood?' he said.  
  
'No, from Prince Faramir,' the other wood elf said. 'It makes for sad reading.' He extended the message sheaf to Legolas, who held it low enough for Gimli to peruse the words as he read.  
  
'Not just drought, but famine...' he murmured.  
  
'And pestilence,' the dwarf said grimly. Unconsciously he fingered his axe blade once again, but these were enemies not so easily dispatched. 'Surely the wains from Rohan will have helped.' Reading on, he saw Faramir had ordered wagons of food to be shipped from Ithilien to Gondor, to travel by ship to the Shire by sea or by river, if possible.  
  
'He seeks to pay an old debt,' Legolas said softly. 'One he can never fully repay, of course, but this would be a salve to his conscience. It rankled that Pippin would accept nothing for saving his life.' He looked to the dwarf. 'Old friend,' he said, 'We have shared the back of a horse upon more than one occasion. What say you to sharing the deck of a great ship?'  
  
Gimli looked at him warily. He didn't think Legolas was talking about seeking Elvenhome, though he often surprised the look of sea-longing in the elf's eyes, when they travelled to Gondor and heard the cry of the gulls.  
  
Legolas understood the look, and smiled back at the dwarf. 'We ought to accompany Prince Faramir's offering to the Shire,' he said. 'making sure it arrives safely.'  
  
'Och, aye,' the dwarf said, repressing a shudder. He'd sailed upriver on a ship, on the way to save Minas Tirinth from the forces of the Dark Lord, and it was not one of his fondest memories. He solaced himself with the thought of seeing the young hobbits again, and playing the part of Father Yule, bearing a pack of food and presents for the celebration.  
  
'Is there an answer?' Carnelas asked.  
  
Legolas nodded, scanning the message once more, then folding it and shoving it into his belt. 'Yes,' he said. 'Tell the messenger to wait. We'll accompany him back to Cair Andros, and down to the White City with Ithilien's gift to the halflings.'  
  
'Very well,' Carnelas said with a bow, and turned to take word to the Prince's messenger.  
  
***  
  
'Are you going to change your name?' Bergil asked idly, as they sipped their beer by the fireside in Bag End. It was just Bergil, Pippin, and Rose; all the rest were tucked up in bed with flannel-wrapped hot bricks, sleeping though it was early evening, gaining strength with every hour of cosseting and rest.  
  
'What's that?' Pippin said.  
  
'You know... you do look a little like him,' Bergil answered. 'Are we going to start calling you "Frodo"?'  
  
'Frodo?' Pippin said, the light dawning.  
  
Rose looked at Pippin searchingly, then nodded. 'You do at that,' she said. 'I can see the family resemblance.'  
  
'Ah,' Pippin said. 'Only handsomer. And younger.'  
  
'Well...' Rose said teasingly. 'Younger, at least.' She chuckled.  
  
Pippin made a deep show of considering. Finally, he shook his head. 'No, it would not do, you can surely see that,' he said. At the others' questioning look, he said, 'Frodo is much too "Baggins" a name, not Tookish enough by a league. Think on it... how ridiculous "Thain Frodo" would sound.'  
  
'Ah, I see your point,' Bergil said. 'Guess I'll just keep calling you Pippin, then.'  
  
Pippin fixed him with a stern eye. 'That's Thain Peregrin to you,' he said severely. Bergil simply laughed and quaffed his beer.  
  
Rose looked around the parlour and sighed. Neither she nor any of the girls had the strength to do what needed to be done. Even the lack of dust in the parlour distressed her, for it meant that the Thain had turned his hand to dusting, surely an occupation much too much beneath him.  
  
Pippin followed her thoughts and smiled a secret smile.  
  
***  
  
Next day, a tapping was heard at the door and cheerful voices without. Bergil opened the door to a giggling gaggle of hobbit lasses who ducked past him, blushing, into Bag End. A smiling Diamond was just getting down from a coach, and Ferdibrand Took grinned from the driver's seat and touched the whip to his eyebrow in salute. 'I'll just put the ponies away, then,' he called, 'and be right with you!'  
  
'What's this?' Bergil asked the Mistress of Tookland, whom he'd met briefly when the wagons had come into Tuckborough. He'd elected to drive one of the wains earmarked for the Great Smials, in hopes of seeing Pippin again, and then he'd walked to Hobbiton from there to see his hobbit family, though Pippin thought he'd gone back to Buckland with the rest. Truth be told, he'd started off with the wains, along the Stock Road, but had changed his mind, hopped down to speak to the grizzled sergeant, and gaining permission, started the hike to Hobbiton.  
  
Diamond smiled up at the tall guardsman. 'A bit of cheer,' she said. 'You might want to roll up your sleeves and tackle the windows outside, there'll be plenty of dust flying about within.'  
  
It was a pleasant, breezy day after several days of blessed rain. The hobbit lasses, tweens all, bustled about Bag End, dusting, scrubbing, washing, shining, laughing, singing. Long lines of laundry flapped in the breeze, the good smells of soap and beeswax pervaded the air, to be joined soon by the aroma of simmering stew, baking bread, and cooling apple tart.  
  
After luncheon, Diamond tucked Mistress Rose back into her freshly made-up bed with a smile. 'You take a nap, now, whilst we finish.'  
  
'How...? What...?' Rose stammered. In truth, she wasn't even sure what question to ask.  
  
Diamond's smile broadened. 'I had nothing to do with it,' she said. 'It was all my wonderful husband's idea.'  
  
'The Thain?' Rose said.  
  
'Yes,' Diamond said fondly. 'He's a wonder.' She chuckled. 'He said he was afraid he'd have to sit on you to keep you abed, and that would hardly be seemly...' Rose joined in the laughter at the thought. '...so he sent me a message, told me what needed doing. He's a fine one for assigning work to others, you know.'  
  
Rose shook a finger at her. 'He's the hardest working hobbit I know,' Rose said.  
  
Diamond smoothed the coverlet. 'Funny, that's just what he said about you, Rose.' 


	73. Revelations

73. Revelations  
  
'Why didn't you tell me?' King Elessar asked quietly.  
  
Faramir's arm tightened around Eowyn, while she remained uncharacteristically withdrawn into herself, hunched together, head down, eyes hidden. 'I suppose you will say that we should have called you the first time the Shadow returned, and then every year afterwards, that we should have interrupted your battle against the Easterlings, for instance.'  
  
He placed both arms about his wife, kissing her tenderly, murmuring words that Elessar and Eomer could not distinguish. Eowyn slowly relaxed, laid her face on her husband's shoulder, gave a great sigh.  
  
Eomer watched in distress. 'Why did you not tell me?' he demanded. 'She's my sister, after all!'  
  
Eowyn looked up then. 'There was nothing to be done but to ride through the storm,' she said softly.  
  
'The first time it happened,' Faramir said steadily, 'We were alone, together, in Ithilien. We had ridden alone to the woods, to get away for a few days, just the two of us.' His hold on his wife tightened, remembering the fear. 'I could not leave her to ride for help, and I could not get her onto a horse. I thought she was dying... all I could do was hold her, talk to her, sing her songs, make her promises...'  
  
'Promises?' Eowyn said. 'You didn't tell me about the promises.'  
  
Faramir smiled at her, and Eomer took a sharp breath at the love in the Prince's eyes. He no longer doubted that his sister was in the best possible hands. 'I've kept them, every one,' Faramir assured her.  
  
Eowyn straightened, once more in command of herself. She fixed the King with an imperious gaze. 'You ought to have known,' she said. 'You dealt with those Shadow-touched, not just the Knight of the Mark and myself. Surely there were some in Minas Tirith who called on you for aid in the after years.'  
  
Elessar shook his head. 'None,' he said. 'But then, none touched blade to the Witch King and survived, save you and Meriadoc. And Frodo,' he mused, 'though it was the Witch King's blade that went into him. And he could not survive his wounds in Middle-earth, but had to pass over the Sea.'  
  
'That is how I found out,' the King went on. 'Peregrin called on me for aid. Meriadoc was dying under the Shadow when I arrived. It was a near thing.'  
  
Faramir sucked in his breath and turned to Eowyn. 'I thought... the Shadow returned only on the anniversary,' he said. She dropped her eyes.  
  
'It is always there,' she murmured, then raised her eyes to her husband's. 'It is always hovering, always ready to strike.' To the amazement of the men, she smiled. 'But you are always there,' she said, 'and so what does it matter? The Shadow cannot touch me.'  
  
The flap to the pavilion lifted, and Beregond stuck his head in, rain glistening upon his cloak and helm. 'Yes?' Faramir said.  
  
'The River is coming up nicely,' the Captain of the White Company said. 'The rain will make for slow going for the wains on their way back to the South, but we ought to be able to send the next shipment of food in ships.'  
  
'Good thing the wains have already departed,' Eomer said. 'Meriadoc would have tried to fill them with all the gold in the Shire, otherwise.'  
  
Eowyn laughed. 'I told him his gold was no good with the Rohirrim,' she said. 'You owed him such a debt for saving his sister and fighting the Nazgul creature that would have attacked King Theoden, I told him it would be a terrible insult to refuse the food or try to make payment.'  
  
'As if all the food in Rohan could even begin to pay the debt we owe,' Eomer muttered.  
  
'You think the halflings would refuse the food?' Beregond gasped.  
  
Faramir met his Captain's shocked gaze. 'The halflings are a proud and independent people,' he said quietly. 'They do not brook condescension, and they resent being treated as children, for all their comparative lack of stature.'  
  
Elessar was nodding. 'We have had to go very carefully,' he agreed. 'It was difficult, in the first place, for them to ask for help. Samwise...' he shook his head. 'Many of the hobbits would have chosen to starve, but for the little ones that would have been condemned to starve as well.'  
  
'They are a hard people, for all their appearance of softness,' Eomer said.  
  
'Stubborn, rather,' Faramir said, and laughed. 'I can well understand how Merry and Pippin became fast friends with Boromir. They were cut from the same cloth.' 


	74. Yuletide Preparations at the Gamgees'

Lizmybit: Glad you have discovered Rope and are enjoying it. It is running much longer than its predecessor, "Jewels". Thanks for the offer of prayers, we are all doing much better. Can always use more prayer, though, as new troubles crop up to replace old ones, I find.  
  
Xena: Yes, I was pondering this (Eowyn being stalked by Shadow the same way Merry is) and decided I had better be consistent, as much as possible. I still make lots of inadvertent errors, of course. Faramir might find himself admitting that hobbits are hard as well as stubborn in a future chapter, though... Eomer got to know Merry pretty well on some of those long rides, and they had some long talks. See "LifeWatch" for more detail of what they talked about. O, and you're right, I hadn't thought about Pippin hating clutter and getting a cleaning crew, just thought he was being sensitive to Rose's feelings at being unable to tackle her housework, er, holework. I sure wish I was as sensitive to clutter and disorder as Pip. My dh does, too. :-/  
  
Bant: Yes, Legolas is here. And there will be more Legolas soon. After all, it is nearly Yule! I must admit I write about Legolas and Gimli with much trepidation. I'm more accustomed to hobbits. But I will do my best.  
  
Dana: Ever thankful for your help and encouragement! I hope Eowyn did not come across as too wimpy... she is a very strong woman, but the King bringing up the topic of Shadow unnerved her, just as it would unnerve Merry...  
  
Hai: I'm not sure if Pippin knows Faramir is in the Shire, he took off for Tookland before the wagons arrived, I think, as he had to be home for Remembering Day. He expects King Eomer there; since the wagons came from Rohan, it is a logical assumption. There are some fun reunion scenes ahead.  
  
LadyJea: Dancing is usually a good thing, I think. And thanks again for that literary term. Dynamic. Huh. Fits Pippin in more ways than one. I love Pippin too, sure wish he would send some tweens to clean my house... but then, I'm only his chronicler.  
  
Bookworm: Good to see you again. Glad you liked the chapters. I would much rather write joy than angst. Worth reading twice! High praise indeed.  
  
Texas Tea? Really? Ah, well, that falls upon the ear better than the crazy- mixed up lyrics in my brain. Oil, that is. Black Gold. Movie Stars. (no no no no no, that cannot be right! Mixing two verses up! Imagining movie stars covered with bubbling crude, now. Well, from the tone of some of the movies that are out these days, it might not be so far from the truth...)  
  
***  
  
Chapter 74. Yuletide Preparations at the Gamgees'  
  
The Gamgee family were recovering from the fever, some more quickly than others. The tweens were soonest out of their beds, and with good feeding had regained enough strength to be restless. The Thain set them to work, going to other homes in the area to finish the neglected fall cleaning, now that there was water aplenty for scrubbing and days of rain to keep them indoors.  
  
Rose fretted at Pippin's continued presence. 'Don't they need you back at the Smials?' she said.  
  
Pippin chuckled. 'There's naught to do at this time of year but get ready for Yuletide,' he said. 'They don't even miss me, I warrant.' At Rose's stern look, his chuckle turned into a laugh and he amended, 'Well, Diamond and the twins might miss me, just a little, I suppose.' He looked around the parlour. 'It's nice and quiet here, nobody tugging at your sleeve, shoving papers in your face, asking for a decision on somewhat or another thing. Perhaps I'll move in permanently.'  
  
Bergil laughed at Rose's scandalised expression. 'Don't pull that leg any further, Pip, it's about to come off in your hand,' he said.  
  
'I know he's joking,' Rose said impatiently, 'but surely you've more important things to do than dance attendance upon the Gamgees.'  
  
Pippin smiled serenely. 'I'll stay until I'm satisfied you're well, Rose,' he said. 'When you can make me a meat and mushroom pie, I'll go.'  
  
Rose humphed. 'That may take some time, considering you don't let me out of a chair or bed long enough to cook.'  
  
'Don't you like my cooking?' Bergil said, affecting hurt.  
  
'I thought it rather good, myself,' Pippin said conversationally. 'You're developing quite a light touch with pastry.'  
  
'Bergil,' Rose said seriously. 'I know you cannot stay. What if you're still here when the King...'  
  
'Rose,' Bergil said patiently. 'I am not about to be put to the sword. The King will see to it that all his strays are rounded up before he closes off the pasture again.'  
  
'Strays?' Pippin asked.  
  
'Ba-a-a-a-a-h,' Bergil answered. 'The sergeant told me to be back at Brandy Hall by Yule or he'd come looking for me.'  
  
'It's already mid-December,' Rose worried.  
  
'I've legs,' Bergil said. 'I can leave next week and still be in time.'  
  
'I'll go along with him,' Pippin said, 'to make sure he doesn't get lost.'  
  
Sam spoke for the first time. 'Back to Brandy Hall? What about the Smials?'  
  
'O, I'm putting off returning to the Smials as long as possible, you know. They'll only put me to work once I get there,' Pippin said easily. 'Besides, I left Faramir at Brandy Hall, and I need to go fetch him before he starts thinking he's a Brandybuck.' He took a long look at Sam, not liking what he saw. 'You need to eat more, Mayor,' he said. 'I want to see you properly fattened up before I go.'  
  
Sam snorted. 'Diamond's rubbing off on you.'  
  
Pippin persisted. 'I'm thinking we ought to load up the Gamgees and take them to Brandy Hall for Yule.'  
  
'Don't you think the Master ought to be the one to issue the invitation?' Sam said dryly.  
  
Pippin laughed. 'What's a dozen more, with the horde he's entertaining? A hundred guardsmen, give or take a few,' he looked keenly at Bergil, who laughed, 'kings, queens, princes and princesses, knights of the Mark... I hope the food holds out.' Privately he resolved that when he went to Brandy Hall, he'd be taking the Gamgees with him. He hoped Strider hadn't used up all his athelas; Frodo-lad and Goldilocks were still as poorly as their father.  
  
'Bergil!' he said brightly. 'Here's another chance for you to look ridiculous!'  
  
'O?' Bergil smiled.  
  
'You can sit on the seat of a hobbit wagon full of Gamgees and drive a team of ponies to Buckland,' Pippin grinned.  
  
'I can hardly wait,' Bergil answered with a grin of his own.  
  
'Merry's fond of saying how I like to turn up like a stray pup at the door,' Pippin went on. 'I'll just bring a whole litter with me this time.' He smiled at Rose. 'Fine bunch of pups they are, too.'  
  
His sharp eyes noticed the Mayor's struggle to keep his eyes open. 'But Samwise, I think it is past your bedtime,' he said. 'Time to tuck you up with some hot bricks and a cup of soothing tea, I think.'  
  
'I'm all right,' Sam protested.  
  
'You will be,' Pippin answered, more to himself than to Samwise. 'You will be.' 


	75. A Debt to Be Paid

Chapter 75. A Debt to Be Paid  
  
Bergil came in from loading the wagons. 'I think that's all,' he said to Pippin. 'Just the Mayor's left.'  
  
'We wouldn't want to forget him,' Pippin said. 'He might perish of too much peace and quiet, all those young Gamgees out from underfoot.' He looked towards Sam to gauge the effect of his words, only to see that the Mayor was asleep again. 'Well, let us wrap him well and pack him up like the rest of the baggage.'  
  
As he lifted his adopted hobbit-dad from the rocking chair, Bergil looked once more about the kitchen and sighed. 'I'll never see this place again,' he mused. 'Nice, cosy home. I'd like one just like it some day.'  
  
'Only bigger,' Pippin said.  
  
Bergil smiled. 'Just a whit,' he said.  
  
Samwise opened his eyes. 'Are we going now?' he said blearily.  
  
'That we are, Sam-Dad,' Bergil told him. 'You just relax and leave the driving to me.'  
  
'I think I'll do that,' Sam said, his eyes closing again. Bergil carried him out, settling him gently in the place they'd prepared for him, while Pippin made sure all the windows and doors of Bag End were shut tight against any winter storm that might blow up while the Gamgees were away.  
  
Closing the front door firmly behind him, the Thain turned and grinned at the sight of the tall guardsman hunched in the driver's seat. 'Could I only paint portraits,' he said. 'I would capture this moment forever.'  
  
Bergil laughed and answered, 'Get up on your pony before we leave without you.'  
  
It was a quiet journey, very different from the usual ride to Brandy Hall, which the Gamgees undertook at least annually if not oftener. There was no singing and little talk. Sam, Frodo-lad, and Goldi slept much of the way, rousing only when Rosie tried to get them to take some hot broth from inns they passed. They also renewed the coals in the warmers at each inn, and once stopped at a farmstead for hot coals when there was too long a stretch between inns. With the warmers giving off their comforting heat, and the cover snugged over the wagon to keep out the rain, the convalescents were kept warm and comfortable, the swaying of the wagon rocking them to sleep along the way.  
  
Pippin rode his pony in the rain, welcoming the moisture, even the feeling of his cloak growing heavier as the ride continued. Bergil looked at him worriedly. 'You're going to catch your death,' he said when they were about halfway to Frogmorton. 'Why not ride in the wagon for a bit?'  
  
'You're as bad as Diamond,' Pippin said. 'Now leave me be and mind your driving. We don't want this wagonload of Gamgees to end up in a brimming ditch; the only one that can swim is Goldi and I don't think she's quite up to it yet.' He turned his face up to the sky, the better to feel the rain.  
  
'You're daft,' Bergil said fondly.  
  
'People often tell me that,' Pippin replied. 'I wonder why?' He joined Bergil in laughing.  
  
They stayed the night in an inn on the outskirts of Whitfurrows, the innkeeper nearly overwhelmed to be accommodating the Thain and the Mayor and his family, and the tall guardsman with the impressive black uniform. He pulled half a dozen hobbit beds together, side-by-side, to make one long bed for Bergil to stretch out upon, insisting that it would be more comfortable for the guardsman than sleeping on the floor in his bedroll, as he'd done his entire stay in the Shire. Bergil found that the innkeeper had the right of it.  
  
In the morning, the innkeeper and his family served the travellers a large, hearty breakfast, despite the Thain's protest. 'You shouldn't be spending so much food on us,' he said.  
  
The innkeeper stubbornly shook his head. 'Wouldn't be any food to spend,' he said, 'were it not for yourself, Thain Peregrin, Sir, and Men like him,' nodding at Bergil.  
  
'Eat up, Thain,' Bergil said. 'Who are you to scorn a gift freely given?'  
  
Pippin caught the double meaning in his words and glared at him, but picked up his fork and began to eat. 'The food will be paid for,' he muttered.  
  
'Of course,' Bergil said. 'Probably already has been.'  
  
Pippin nodded. 'Merry was to have sent gold from Buckland back with the wains to Rohan,' he said. 'Tookland will pay for the shipment from Gondor.'  
  
'Of course,' Bergil said again. Pippin cast a sharp glance at him, but his face was sober and the hobbit saw no trace of condescension there. 'Debts must be paid,' the guardsman added softly. Pippin said nothing, but gave his attention back to his breakfast. 


	76. Tall Ships

Author's Note: Okay, Bant, you get your wish. Here's more Gimli and Legolas. Hope they suit. You do not know how I laboured over them... being a hobbit myself, writing dwarves and elves does not come easily.  
  
***  
  
76. Tall Ships  
  
The quay was a-bustle with shouting, sweating workers as kegs and crates, sacks and barrels were loaded aboard the fleet of waiting ships. An oddly- matched pair strode through the crowd, causing an eddy of curious looks around them, to the foremost ship in the line.  
  
An officer was checking off supplies as they were loaded; he barely glanced at the elf who stood before him as the elf's dwarf companion cleared his throat loudly. 'A moment,' he said, continuing to add marks to the tally as the large sacks were carried aboard by a stream of workers. When the last one passed him, he marked it off with a flourish and a satisfied nod, turning to shout, 'That's the last!'  
  
Another officer waved from the deck, and the Man looked directly at the companions for the first time, eyes widening. 'I beg your pardon,' he said to Legolas.  
  
'I suppose you did not want to lose count,' the elf said with a smile, as the dwarf grumbled under his breath. 'What ship is this?'  
  
A look of pride came into the Man's eyes; he stood a little straighter as he answered, 'This is the Dove, under the command of Captain Fargold, finest ship in the King's service.'  
  
Legolas bowed gracefully. 'Then we have found the right ship,' he said. 'We have come to accompany Ithilien's contribution to the Ernil i Pheriannath and his people.'  
  
Gimli grumbled under his breath again. 'Hobbits! They're hobbits! Why can't folk be sensible and call them what they call themselves.'  
  
'Peace, Gimli,' the elf said. He turned back to the ship's officer. 'I was told to seek accommodation on the Dove.'  
  
The officer bowed low. 'Wait here, please,' he said. 'I will bring the Captain to you.' He walked up the gangway, his long strides making short work of the steep slope. The Captain was easy enough to find, and the officer came to a stop before him, saluting.  
  
'Yes, Thingal, what is it?' the Captain said, returning the gesture.  
  
'One of the Fair Folk, Sir,' the officer said.  
  
'An elf wants to sail with us?' the grizzled Captain guessed shrewdly. 'Or does he merely bring a message?'  
  
'He wishes to sail, Captain, and his companion with him.'  
  
The Captain glanced over and stood a little straighter. 'Thingal,' he breathed. 'They are the ones... you remember... an elf and a dwarf who walk together? They must be of the Nine Companions.'  
  
'Meriadoc spoke of them,' Thingal nodded, 'when we brought him to Ithilien, to greet his kinsman the Ring-bearer.'  
  
'And they wish to take passage upon our ship?' the Captain said. His officer nodded, and the Captain smiled broadly, then gained control of himself, once again the stern master of his vessel, though he could not help saying softly, 'Such an honour for the Dove, and for my final voyage.' He looked up and around his ship, and said, 'I will miss the old girl; she has borne us through peril, storm and war, and I pray she will bear you safely for many a year to come.'  
  
Thingal nodded soberly, then sought to lighten his Captain's mood. 'She will have carried four of the Nine at journey's end,' His smile broadened. 'And we may yet greet Meriadoc at our destination, I hear.'  
  
'That is to be hoped,' the Captain said. 'If the River is high enough to take us all the way to the land of the Halflings.'  
  
Thingal nodded, not voicing his thought. It was certainly to be hoped, for he did not relish the thought of braving the currents and waves all the way to the Grey Havens, with the season of winter storms well underway.  
  
'I will welcome them aboard,' Captain Fargold said, 'while you make my stateroom ready for them.' He would make other arrangements as long as their distinguished guests were with them.  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Thingal said, saluting again, and turning away to his next task.  
  
Gimli was staring glumly at the ship as the Captain descended the gangway to them. 'Welcome, Legolas and Gimli,' he said, bowing low to them. 'We are honoured that you should grace the Dove with your presence.'  
  
Mollified, Gimli said, 'You know our names? The news came before us?'  
  
'O no, Sir, but your fame precedes you,' the Captain answered. 'And Meriadoc spoke much of his companions.'  
  
'Merry?' the dwarf said.  
  
The captain nodded. 'He was a passenger aboard the Dove just at War's end,' he explained. 'A short acquaintance with his kind makes for quick friendship and a long memory.' He smiled at the memory. 'And he sailed with us to the Sea and back again, before turning homewards.'  
  
Legolas nodded. 'I remember. Only Pippin of the other hobbits was willing to share the journey.'  
  
'A lively lad, I recall, with a great sense of adventure,' the Captain smiled. He gestured to the ship. 'But please, come aboard. Any friends of Meriadoc's... will find welcome aboard the Dove.'  
  
The dwarf snorted, but the elf answered smoothly. 'We thank you for your warm welcome.' They stepped aboard the wooden walkway with its crossbars nailed at intervals to give purchase, and Gimli immediately missed the solid feel of stone beneath his feet. Legolas unobtrusively steadied him as they climbed.  
  
To the dwarf's regret, the ship seemed no more solid than the gangway had been, seeming to move restlessly upon the water as if it were a steed eager to be on its way. Legolas breathed deeply and stood with his feet a little further apart than usual, feeling the life in the ship. 'It is like coming awake,' he said, 'from a weighty dream into lightness.'  
  
'I could use a bit more weight, myself,' the dwarf grumbled. 'Feels as if we're about to float away.'  
  
Legolas laughed. 'But of course, Gimli!' he cried. 'That is the whole idea!'  
  
'We will be underway in less than an hour,' the Captain said, 'for we must race to meet the tide, or wait for the next one. It is good you came when you did.'  
  
'Yes,' the elf answered. 'It would have been a shame to miss sailing.'  
  
'A real shame,' Gimli muttered ironically. 'Indeed.'  
  
***  
  
Legolas was often to be found in the rigging, climbing to the highest point to help set sails, or merely to stand near the top with the breeze in his face. Gimli kept his feet firmly planted on the deck, wishing only that it were rock in truth instead of action.  
  
'Think of it as a wagon,' Legolas laughed during one of his rare moments on the deck, standing at the railing, watching the land slip by as they sailed down the Anduin towards the Sea.  
  
'I can only wish it were,' Gimli said. He glanced sidelong at the elf. The smell of salt in the air was growing stronger, and gulls often danced above the masts. He wondered how soon he would be losing Legolas to the call of the Sea. Surely this journey was ill-advised.  
  
When they reached open Sea, Gimli found that the gentle motion of the deck on the River was mild, desirable, even, compared to the feeling of being a cork bobbing from wave to wave. He took to his bunk, unable to eat, or sleep, or do anything but endure. He'd no doubt the elf was standing at the top of the mast, enjoying the salt spray in his face. He almost hoped Legolas would lose his grasp and plunge into the waves, to have to be rescued ignomiously, but of course the irritating elf was too sure-footed for that.  
  
When the ship turned into the mouth of the Baranduin River, sails set to catch as much wind as possible to fight the river current, the motion of the ship eased, and soon Gimli was able to leave his bunk. As he emerged blinking into the light, Legolas greeted him with delight. 'That was a marvelous treat!' he said, eyes sparkling. 'Were it not for the anticipation of seeing the young hobbits again, I would already be longing for the return journey.'  
  
'A rare treat, indeed,' Gimli muttered. He didn't care if he never set eyes upon the Sea again. The Sea was his enemy, after all, for one day, sooner than later, more likely, it would bear the elf forever away.  
  
The Captain ordered regular soundings taken, for the Dove rode a little heavier than usual with her full load of cargo, and the Baranduin was a new river to him. Wide, perhaps, and he held charts in his hand from those who had gone before him, still, he did not know this river, and so it was not to be trusted. Behind him, the fleet strung out into a long line.  
  
People ashore stopped their work to gape at the fleet of ships making their way upriver, by sail when the wind was favourable, or by oars when the wind dropped. An occasional ship, yes, going upstream to Sarn, and back again, this they had seen, and now that the drawbridge was complete the ships probably went past Sarn to communities upriver. But a grand fleet of white- sailed ships... never before had such a sight been known on the Baranduin.  
  
Gimli took to standing at the rail, watching the riverbank crawl by. He was fascinated by the drawbridge at Sarn, remembering the stories of Laketown near the Lonely Mountain and its bridges, before Smaug the Dragon had brought ruin and devastation. The town had been rebuilt, of course, but no longer needed to be surrounded by water.  
  
Legolas joined him at the rail as they passed the town of Sarn. He smiled and waved back at the children who lined the banks, cheering the great ship. 'Come, Gimli,' he said. 'They honour you; it is only polite to acknowledge them. Likely they have never seen a dwarf sailing up their river before.'  
  
'Likely they never will see such again,' Gimli said. A wee lass caught his eye, held in her mother's arms, pointing to him and waving both little arms lustily, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; he found himself returning the greeting, nodding to the tiny bit, hearing her voice on the wind shouting excitedly " 'ook, Mama, 'ook, Mama, 'ook!" before the ship carried them past and Gimli let his face settle back into its grim lines.  
  
'Would you rather walk all the way to the Shire?' Legolas said.  
  
'A horse wouldn't be so bad,' Gimli remarked. 'I suppose a ship is a little more convenient. Easier to sleep on a ship than on a horse.'  
  
'You are not so likely to fall off,' Legolas said, amused.  
  
Gimli gave a shudder. 'One would certainly hope not,' he returned.  
  
'And the meals are better,' said a voice behind them. They turned to see Officer Thingal behind them. 'Dinner is served,' the officer said.  
  
'It is time for dinner already?' Legolas said. 'The time is slipping by as quickly as the shoreline.'  
  
'Not quickly enough,' Gimli muttered under his breath, but Legolas heard him.  
  
'There is not far to go, now,' he said. 'We should arrive a few days before the Yuletide celebration.'  
  
'That'll be a fine present,' Gimli said.  
  
'The food for the halflings?' Thingal asked.  
  
'No,' the dwarf answered. 'Solid earth beneath my feet.' He glared as Legolas laughed, and then the three went down to the mess.  
  
***  
  
A/N Fargold and Thingal are characters from "LifeWatch", also found on fanfiction.net 


	77. Ghosts of the Past

lizmybit: I think my chapters are short because I have such a short attention span... It is why I have to keep writing on two or more stories at a time, so I can switch back and forth and not get bored.  
  
Pansy: I get sucked into my stories, too, and I'm short on time. My house is begging for attention. We have kept up the homeschooling, at least. Hmmm. Wonder if a unit on "home economics" would fly?  
  
LadyJea: Thanks for the encouragement. Ummm. Didn't give many details on the town of Sarn, I read the Sil 20 years ago and really need to revisit; my history is shaky and dimly remembered. The details about Laketown come from the Hobbit, all three copies of which have gone missing at our house, and I surely hope they are accurate. I forgot to do the research to find out what happened to Laketown after Smaug smashed it... I'm sure they rebuilt, but did they do it in the middle of the lake again? Don't remember. Laketown is up north of the Shire, near the Lonely Mountain. See "Hobbit" for details.  
  
Bant: Thank you! Whew. Glad the elf and the dwarf came off sounding accurate. Am gonna keep working at that now that they're about to arrive at Brandy Hall.  
  
Bookworm: I think Gimli likes good solid stone under his feet. Hmmmm. Perhaps I'm part dwarf. No, hobbits like good solid stone under their feet as well, and many of them don't like boats. I am one of those rare hobbits that can swim, however, Uncle Saradoc saw to that.  
  
Xena: I love Bergil! Wonder if he can get a "pass" to get into the Shire after the edict is reinstated. After all, he has been adopted by a hobbit family!  
  
***  
  
77. Ghosts of the Past  
  
'You must be soaked to the skin,' Bergil said worriedly, but Pippin only laughed.  
  
'And so are you!' he retorted. 'And there's more of you, so you're more soaked than I am!' Bergil shook his head, and Pippin added reassuringly, 'We are nearly to Brandy Hall, and my timing, as usual, is impeccable, for we ought to be arriving just at teatime. A nice warm cup will do me wonders.' He lowered his voice, saying, 'Besides, they are nice and dry in the wagon. I could hardly seek shelter there and drip all over everyone.'  
  
Very soon they were passing through Bucklebury. It was a far cry from Bergil's first glimpse of the place; hobbits were out and about their business, mothers with baskets on their arms, coming from market, little ones splashing in the puddles behind them, a tween scattering grain to chickens that had ventured out into the misting rain in search of bugs.  
  
'Here we are!' Pippin shouted as they took the turnoff for Brandy Hall. 'I wonder if they will have seedcake for tea?'  
  
***  
  
Residents and guests of Brandy Hall had just sat down to tea when Merimas Brandybuck entered the great room with a wide grin. 'Still more guests! The Thain is arriving, with a wagonload besides,' he said to Merry. 'It will be quite a lively Yule this year.' He bowed to King Elessar and his queen. Arwen had arrived that day from Fornost, to celebrate Yule, with the little princess and young heir, along with the children of the rulers of Rohan and Ithilien. The youngest of these were enchanted with hobbit accommodations, which suited their size perfectly. They sat upon benches or in chairs pulled up to the hobbit-sized tables, whilst their elders had to make do, sitting on cushions upon the floor to be at proper table height.  
  
The small children also delighted in the hobbit cups and saucers, plates and spoons, though the Master of Buckland had arranged for the potters to throw larger cups, plates, bowls, and pitchers, and the smiths to craft larger eating implements for the larger guests of the Hall. Beds were not quite as easy a problem to solve, but the Big People elected to sleep upon the cots they brought and set up within their pavilions. They spent much of their time in the pavilions or high-ceiled great room, when not walking or working in the rain, but took at least one meal each day in the great room with the Brandybucks.  
  
'And who is in the wagon?' Merry asked.  
  
'The Gamgees, Pippin said, but how many of them I do not know, for the wagon is covered, of course. If we set a score of places we shall be ready for any contingency.' Merimas turned to Elessar. 'It might interest you to hear that it is being driven by your errant guardsman,' he added, his grin broadening at memory of the ridiculous sight of a Man driving a hobbit wagon. 'They will be pulling into the courtyard at any moment; I encountered them on the road and rode ahead to tell you to set places at table for them.'  
  
Prince Faramir of Ithilien paused in a comment to Eowyn on hearing repetition of his name. He looked up expectantly in time to hear Merry say, 'Faramir, your father is arriving. Will you go to greet him?' The Man felt a moment of disorientation, imagining Denethor riding into the courtyard, then Eowyn was laughing at him, catching his mistake, and he joined her in amusement. Of course, the Master was addressing his namesake, who had jumped up from the table in excitement.  
  
Merry rose, telling the servers to set more places, then said to Estella, 'You stay, my dear. It will be as easy for you to greet them as they enter as to stand upon the stones.'  
  
'Yes, beloved, I will stay here with my feet up, good obedient wife that I am,' Estella said demurely, and Merry chuckled.  
  
'Turning over a new leaf?' he asked softly, and she flashed him a stern look.  
  
'Be off with you!' she ordered. 'Before our guests have to find their own way into the Hall!'  
  
'I shall join you,' Elessar said, rising, and Faramir of Ithilien also rose. 'The rest of you, stay, mind the tea, lest the hobbits eat all before we return.'  
  
'That is a real danger,' Estella said. 'I am eating for two, you know.' She acknowledged the bows of the departing menfolk with a regal nod.  
  
The clouds parted to allow a watery Sun to shine upon the courtyard as the three reached the main entrance to the Hall. The wagon stood before the door; Pippin had dismounted and was lifting one of the occupants out as young Faramir held the flap aside. As Pippin turned from the wagon, bearing his burden to the entrance, Prince Faramir of Ithilien had another moment of confusion. 'Frodo?' he said uncertainly.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'Why, yes,' he said. 'This is Frodo Gamgee. But how did you know?'  
  
Faramir said, 'I--' and then shook his head. 'Greetings, Peregrin,' he said formally. 'It has been a long time.' Frodo Gamgee was the image of his father at a younger age, and Pippin... twenty-some years older than the last time Faramir had seen him, about the age now that Frodo had been at that time, bore a striking resemblance to his cousin, more so for being gaunt and drawn from long illness and the strain of the past few months.  
  
'Greetings, my Captain,' Pippin answered, and the illusion vanished with his smile. 'Or perhaps I should say, "Prince".' He turned to Merry. 'We have three needing beds; they are not quite ready to join the company for tea.'  
  
Merry looked past him to see Bergil carrying a well wrapped-up Samwise. 'One more?' he asked.  
  
'Goldi,' Pippin said. 'The others might need to be helped down, but they're well enough to walk into the Hall and join us for tea.'  
  
Merry reached the wagon as Rose finished wrapping Goldi in a blanket. 'Rose,' he said, 'Welcome to Brandy Hall. I hope you will be staying for Yule.' He was shocked at the appearance of all the Gamgees; they looked like ghosts of themselves, and he resolved that they would not be returning to Hobbiton until Hall hospitality had coaxed them back to health. He took up Goldi, and Elessar and the two Faramirs steadied the rest of the Gamgees as they climbed down from the wagon.  
  
'Strider, if you wouldn't mind escorting the guests to tea,' Merry said, 'I will return as soon as we've taken care of these three.' King Elessar nodded, with a gentle squeeze to Rose's hand on one side and Elanor's on his other.  
  
'All out?' the stable lad holding the ponies called, and Prince Faramir waved. The little group walked slowly into the Hall, accommodating the slow pace set by the convalescents.  
  
Inside the Hall, Merry hailed a passing servant, saying, 'The Mayor and his family are come; we shall put them in the Mayor's apartments. I want you to find Healer Robin and send him to me there.'  
  
Bergil had to crouch to carry Samwise through the corridors, and was relieved to lay the Mayor upon his bed and straighten as much as the ceiling allowed. 'There you are, Sam-Dad,' he said. 'We'll bring your tea to you here.'  
  
'I don't need any tea,' Sam said. 'A nap will do me fine.'  
  
'You had better take some tea,' Merry said, 'Or Estella will feed it to you herself. She thinks all hobbits should eat all the time, or all's not right with the world.' 


	78. Sails in the Mist

Chapter 78. Sails in the Mist  
  
As the dawn light increased, the watchers at the top of Brandy Hall rubbed their eyes in astonishment. Looming out of the mists on the River, they could see... enormous white sails, larger than any they'd ever seen before on the largest of hobbit sailboats. Ghostly ships drew even with Brandy Hall, there was a clanking of chain, splashes, hoarse shouts, nearly swallowed by the mist, then the sails began to flap and then to descend. Gathering his wits, one of the watchers jerked his horn from his belt and blew a long blast.  
  
It was not long before blinking hobbits began to emerge from the Hall, stopping short in amazement at the sight of the fleet anchoring in the River. Elessar ducked from his pavilion, a broad grin stretching over his face. Eomer and Faramir joined him, walking down to the bank, to call to the figures dimly seen at the railing of the foremost ship.  
  
'Gimli! Legolas! Well met!' the King roared.  
  
'Elessar!' Legolas answered. 'Now we know we have found the right place!'  
  
'Come ashore!' the King called. 'You're just in time for breakfast!'  
  
'I thought we were bringing breakfast!' the dwarf shouted back.  
  
'O no, you are to be bringing dinner!' Merry called cheerfully, coming to stand beside his royal guests. 'Breakfast is on us!' He stared in wonder at the fleet of ships, heavy laden, bringing life and hope to the Shire. The thought stirred within him, that perhaps there might actually be a future after all. How they were to pay for it all... well, he'd bake that bread when it was risen. If it took all the gold in the Shire, Buckland would give its share.  
  
The Captain and first mate of the Dove came ashore with Gimli and Legolas, and Merry was glad to greet Fargold and Thingal. 'To think I should see you on our own River!' he said. 'I have never forgot the journey you took me on yours.' He greeted Gimli and Legolas heartily. 'It has been much too long,' he said. 'You know there is no ban on elves and dwarves in the Shire, don't you?'  
  
'Ah, well, you know how it is,' the dwarf grumbled. 'When I was ready to come, *he* was occupied, and then to pass the time, I'd occupy myself in business and so be unable to get away when *he* was free.' He cast a demonstrative look at the elf, and Merry laughed.  
  
'So it is all Legolas' fault, as usual,' the Master of Buckland chuckled.  
  
'What is my fault?' Legolas asked, turning from conversation with Elessar.  
  
'Everything,' Gimli grunted, and the elf laughed.  
  
'Of course,' Legolas said, and turned back to Elessar. 'And what of Peregrin? Is he here?'  
  
The King frowned. 'I would have expected him to be one of the first to greet you,' he said.  
  
Merry put in, 'He sat up quite late with Samwise, until Healer Robin threatened to have him bound and carried off to his bed.'  
  
Gimli guffawed, and Legolas smiled. 'Why does that not surprise me?' he said. 'And so Samwise stayed up too late, as well?'  
  
'Sam's been ill,' Merry said quietly. 'Pippin brought him to the Hall for the King's healing hands.'  
  
'There is only so much athelas can do,' Elessar said. 'Time and rest are what is chiefly needed now.'  
  
'And feeding up,' Merry said. 'The Gamgees have come to the right place for that. Every time someone opens a mouth, Estella pops something in.' He glanced back at the Hall. 'Speaking of popping food in the mouth, I think we had better move along to the great room before my lovely wife comes in search of us. She hates cold breakfast.'  
  
***  
  
Pippin woke to Faramir's excited words. 'Ships! Giant ships in the River! As big as...' Words failed the lad.  
  
'Dragons, perhaps,' Pippin said sleepily, 'or whales.' He smiled at his son, who'd seen neither. 'You go on to see them, lad, I'll follow as soon as I'm dressed.' Faramir was quickly gone, and Pippin stretched and tried to rub the clouds from his eyes.  
  
He blessed whomever had lighted the cheery fire on the bedroom hearth, for a chill was in his bones, making it difficult to emerge from beneath the warm coverlet. He blessed as well the thoughtfulness that had laid out clean, warm clothing woven of soft wool, warming by the fire, ready for his use. His own clothes were undoubtedly still sodden from the last two days; even the baggage had been soaked in the downpour they'd ridden through. As his feet touched the cold floor, he almost wished for warm socks, as Men wore. Ah, well, he'd warm up as soon as he was clothed and fed.  
  
Before long, he met the group coming up from the bank, and broke into a broad smile. 'Gimli!' he shouted. 'Legolas! Good to see you again!' He hugged first one, then the other. 'We should have had a famine years ago, if that's what it takes to bring you to the Shire!'  
  
'Ridiculous as ever,' the dwarf grumbled, then returned the embrace gruffly. 'It is good to see you as well, young Took.'  
  
'Not so young, anymore,' Pippin laughed. 'But what are we standing around for? Come in!'  
  
'Just who is Master of this Hall?' Merry demanded.  
  
'You are, but you're getting much too slow in your old age, cousin!' Pippin said cheerily. Putting an arm about Merry's shoulders, he called back to the others. 'Just follow us! We'll lead you to the feast!'  
  
'They hardly act as if they're dying,' Thingal muttered to Fargold.  
  
Legolas looked over soberly. 'Pippin looks as if he'd just come from Mount Doom,' he said. 'I hardly recognised him. I thought for a moment Frodo had come back from across the Seas, impossible as that would be.'  
  
'That thought had struck me as well,' the dwarf muttered. 'It seems we have come just in time.' 


	79. Healer's Eyes

79. Healer's Eyes  
  
Breakfast was a merry meal, with much talk, both of old times to be re- lived in reminiscence, and of happenings after the travellers had parted. Elessar watched with his healer's eyes. Merry seemed well on the way to mending, though he kept one hand upon Estella's much of the time, as if drawing comfort from the contact. Come to think of it, Eowyn and Faramir sat close as well, bodies touching. Sometimes Eowyn would sober, eyes looking inward, and without his seeming to take notice of the look, Faramir's hand would cover her own until she straightened up and smiled again.  
  
Gimli and Legolas sparred good-naturedly with all the rhythms of long practice and long friendship. Eomer and his queen spoke with Merry, urging him to bring his family to Rohan for a visit; they would surely receive a royal welcome.  
  
Pippin, now... the King's sharp eyes noted that the Thain talked and laughed more than he ate, and a weariness lay beneath the bright smile. He had insisted that Beregond and Bergil join him and young Faramir, and he and Bergil were regaling the others with some of their adventures as "lads" in Minas Tirith after the War.  
  
After breakfast, the notables walked down to the bank of the Brandywine, looking at the landings on both sides of the River, calculating how the great loads would be moved from ships to land, and then across the Shire.  
  
'We shall send out messengers to the far corners of the Shire,' the Thain said. 'Hobbits will come by the hundreds with wagons to haul the goods away; you need not rue having sent the wains of the Rohirrim back home so soon, though they left hastily, without taking any gold back.'  
  
Eomer chose not to honour this comment with a reply.  
  
'Just makes for a heavier load for the ships,' Merry answered. 'Still, ships may carry more than wains, anyhow.'  
  
'You have the right of it, cousin, and they do not have to watch out for ruffians in the bargain,' Pippin said.  
  
'There are ruffians on the water,' Captain Fargold said quietly. 'Did you forget the Corsairs of Umbar?'  
  
'Are they still about?' Pippin asked. 'Strider, I thought you'd taken care of them all.'  
  
'There will always be ruffians, and pirates,' the King answered quietly. He saw the glance that passed between Thain and Master, and understood. 'Yes, there will always be black-hearted Men, even though there is no Dark Lord for them to follow. I will re-issue the Edict after Yule, pull out the guardsmen, and set a heavier guard about the Shire for a time afterwards, to make sure that Men understand that nothing has changed, and the Shire is still under my protection.'  
  
'Good,' Pippin said shortly. 'It will be for their protection as well.' He eyed the king. 'You took a great chance, Strider, ordering your guardsmen into the Shire in the first place. You might have lost a score of guardsmen in Tookland, you know.'  
  
'I heard about that,' Elessar said dryly. 'Good thing your cousin took them under his protection.'  
  
'Yes, Ferdibrand has a good head on his shoulders. Many Tooks would have shot first and asked questions later.'  
  
'Then I am grateful for Ferdibrand. Perhaps he would like to come work for me?' the King said.  
  
Pippin laughed. 'He already has plenty of work to do, and not much use for Men.'  
  
'So I gather,' Elessar said. He'd had a full report from the sergeant sent to Tookland.  
  
Legolas and Gimli spent a part of the morning with the Gamgees. Rose was overcome with shyness to be meeting one of the Fair Folk, though Legolas was no longer so distant as most of his kin, through his long association with the Men of Ithilien, and friendship with Gimli the dwarf. Whenever the latter felt the elf was becoming too lofty, he would seek to take him down a peg or two, and Legolas would smile and allow himself to be taken down. He found he could accomplish much more working *with* Men than he could holding them at a distance, a fact most of his kindred did not know, or did not care to know.  
  
Pippin joined them after a time, accompanying the servants who brought the noon meal on trays. Rose soon relaxed and found herself talking to the elf and the dwarf with ease, especially when she saw that they held her Sam in high esteem, and spoke fondly of their memories of Sam's beloved Frodo. The children, already familiar with the tales in the Red Book, hung on every word. Even Goldi and Frodo-lad stayed awake long enough to eat a hearty nuncheon as Sam, Pippin, Gimli, and Legolas traded stories. Rose was pleased to see Sam eating with some appetite, as well.  
  
After the meal, the elf nudged the dwarf, who was just finishing a story, and nodded significantly. Bristling, the dwarf looked to see Samwise blinking sleepily, grumbled something at the elf, and rose smoothly. 'But we have work to do, my lady,' he said gruffly, bowing to Rose. 'I must beg to take our leave.'  
  
'Of course,' Rose said.  
  
Legolas took her hand and bowed over it. 'We thank you for your kind hospitality,' he said. 'Rest, now.' Looking into his smiling eyes, Rose suddenly realised how sleepy she felt, and barely managed to suppress a yawn.  
  
'You are too kind,' she said.  
  
'Sleep well,' Pippin said. 'I think I might take a nap myself.'  
  
Rose looked at him sharply. 'I think that would be a very good idea,' she said. 'Nothing like an afternoon nap after a good meal.'  
  
'Unless it is a pipe,' Pippin answered.  
  
'I wouldn't know about that,' Rose rejoined. 'I don't take a pipe.'  
  
'You don't know what you're missing,' Pippin chuckled.  
  
'No, and I don't intend to find out, either. Were I you, I'd take the nap over the pipe this day. Take yourself off, now, Thain, and no more of your nonsense.' She smiled to take the sting from the words, and with a laugh, Pippin left with the others.  
  
Legolas noted, however, that Pippin did not rest that afternoon, but sought out Bergil and Elessar instead, to talk over some business.  
  
After the evening meal, the Big People were invited to the great room to enjoy the blazing fire on the great hearth, storytelling, music, and song.  
  
Elessar called Legolas over for a private chat. Nodding to a quiet corner of the great room, he called the elf's attention to the Thain, slumped in a comfortable chair, head back, finally asleep.  
  
'I need your help, old friend,' the King said, 'in the matter of another old friend.'  
  
'I saw,' Legolas said quietly. 'I had heard he was dying, and then you sent a message about a wondrous cure, and that he was well again. But he doesn't look all that well, to my eye, though I'm no healer.'  
  
'He was ill for a long time,' Elessar said soberly, 'and yes, he came very close to death. After the cure, he came to Lake Evendim, and we made sure he rested and ate... how he ate! The Queen gave orders that he was to have food ever before him, and we made sure he ate... he couldn't very well refuse, when we were eating as well...' The King patted his belly with a droll look, and Legolas laughed. Adding his own chuckle, Elessar said, 'Yes, I nearly outgrew my mail...'  
  
Sobering again, the King went on, 'But then he returned to the Shire, to news that the harvest had failed. Hobbits were on short commons, and by the end I suspect they were on no commons at all, before the wains arrived. He has again fallen out of the habit of eating, and I fear for him. He went on so long on will alone, disregarding his body, that I think he disregards it still. What will he do when will fails him? They have a proverb in the Shire: "A hobbit that doesn't eat is soon no hobbit at all." ' He paused after this speech, uncommonly long for him, and puffed on his pipe in silence.  
  
'What can I do?' the elf asked quietly.  
  
'Stay with him. Ply him with wine and food; tempt him with elvish fare. The wood elves are famous for their feasts, after all. Get him used to eating, until it is again a habit.' Elessar sipped at his wine, then said, 'The Mistress of Buckland is wise; she knows that hobbits' appetites are not working properly after the long fast--they have taught themselves to pay no heed to hunger--and she makes sure they eat by the clock. But Pippin is going back to the Smials, and I am told he pays no mind to those who nag him to eat, they've done it so long, in his case.'  
  
'Fatten him up, as in a fairy tale?' the elf said, smiling.  
  
'Ah, yes, but not to bring him to an evil end,' the King returned. 'Let us try to write him a tale that goes on and on.'  
  
'And see to it that he gets adequate rest, I suppose,' Legolas said.  
  
'For an elf who is more warrior than healer, you show remarkable sense,' the King said.  
  
'My sense tells me he will waken with a terrible crick in his neck if allowed to continue in that position,' Legolas said. He rose and walked over to the sleeping Thain, touching his shoulder, calling his name softly, answered only by a snore.  
  
Faramir came over. 'Did you need something?' he said. The elf smiled at the lad's protective stance.  
  
'No, I have no need to waken your father,' he said. 'I merely thought he'd be more comfortable in his bed than in a chair.' He carefully lifted the Thain in his arms without waking the hobbit. Pippin, under the deceptively bulky wool clothing, was disturbingly light. 'Will you show me where to lay him?' he said.  
  
The lad stared at him thoughtfully, then nodded. 'Follow me,' he answered, and he and Legolas, bearing Pippin, walked quietly from the great room. 


	80. Bread and Breakfast

**80. Bread and Breakfast**  
  
Pippin wakened to the crackle of a bright fire on the hearth and a delicious smell in the air. He heard Faramir talking quietly, then a chuckle from... Legolas? He opened his eyes to see Faramir and Legolas at the little table, Faramir in one of the chairs, and Legolas upon the floor to be at proper table height. Had the table a voice, it would have groaned for the weight of food piled upon it, and the merry twain were making a hearty meal.  
  
Seeing the Thain awake, Legolas turned slightly from the table to bow in his direction. 'Good morning!' he said cheerily. 'Your son kindly invited me to join him at breakfast, and I told him I would show him something of the wood elves' fare, when we were talking over Bilbo's tales last evening. You are in good time; we have not yet eaten all.'  
  
'That's a relief,' Pippin said, throwing back the covers. He took the empty chair, and Legolas soon loaded a plate and placed it before him. The delicious smell was coming from the steaming bread; he took a bite, and said, 'I remember this! It is what Gildor served us at the beginning of our journey.' _...surpassing the savour of a fair white loaf to one who is starving._  
  
'Not quite what they bake in the ovens in my father's halls,' Legolas laughed, 'but it will serve.' He took another bite from his own plateful of food, then said, 'Faramir was just telling me the story of the elf and the dwarf.'  
  
'Which one?' Pippin asked.  
  
'There are more than one?' Legolas said, amused.  
  
Pippin threw back his head and laughed. Faramir said, 'He could tell a tale a night for a year and not be half done.'  
  
Legolas shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 'I didn't realise we had afforded so much... amusement.'  
  
'Years of pleasure for many a hobbit,' Pippin said. 'You're famous throughout the Shire.'  
  
'I had thought of accompanying you to Tookland,' the elf said thoughtfully. 'Now I wonder if it is a wise idea.'  
  
'We don't have to tell them that you are _the_ elf,' Pippin said.  
  
'I had thought the tale was very specific as to names,' Legolas pointed out.  
  
'We can just say it was "some other Legolas",' Pippin said, off-handedly.  
  
'And would the hobbits believe that?'  
  
'No,' Pippin answered, 'but it might give you the illusion of anonymity.'   
  
Legolas laughed at that, and added more food to Pippin's plate. 'Eat up, you are falling behind.'  
  
'When are we going back?' Faramir asked his father.  
  
'Yuletide starts tomorrow. I doubt they will even begin offloading the cargo until after Yule. The messengers will be going out today to tell the Shirefolk and Breefolk to send wagons to Bucklebury Ferry landing, and to the Bridge. We'll be offloading at both ferry landings; the carpenters have already started working to build upon the landings so that ships may offload there. What gets taken off on the Buckland side will be carted throughout Buckland and then northwards, through the North Gate and then eastward towards Bree and westwards to Bywater, and the northern part of Westfarthing, and the Northfarthing.'  
  
'And that which is unloaded on the western side will go along the Stock Road to Eastfarthing, Tookland, Southfarthing, and the southern parts of Westfarthing, I take it,' Faramir said.  
  
'And up the road from Stock to the East Road, to join the shipments crossing the Bridge,' Pippin said. 'We'll just spread the food as far as it'll go.'  
  
'I think you'll find it will go far,' Legolas said. 'Not only will the measure be full, but heaped up and running over. Ithilien sent food as well as Gondor. Every one of those ships is filled with food until no more could be added without foundering the ship.'  
  
He saw Pippin's smile fade slightly, but then the Thain nodded and said, 'Our King doesn't do things by halves, does he?'  
  
'No, I find that he doesn't,' Legolas answered quietly. 'The Shire will have food enough to last until harvest time, and beyond, if needed, and if for any reason next year's harvest should fail, there is plenty more in the storehouses of Gondor.'  
  
'Though we should have to sell ourselves into slavery to pay for it. I hope there is enough gold in the Shire to pay for those ships full of food out there on the River.'  
  
'Ah, well, you'll just have to mine more gold, I suppose,' Legolas said, but the Thain did not smile, and pushed his plate away. Legolas took this opportunity to load more food upon the plate. 'Do not let this food go to waste,' he said. 'I was up betimes baking that bread, I will have you know, and I do not intend to eat it all by myself.'  
  
'I will help you,' Faramir said, his mouth full of said bread.  
  
'We would not want your sacrifice to be for naught,' Pippin said with a wry smile, and accepted his loaded plate back with a sigh, deigning to begin to eat once more.  
  
'So when are we going back?' Faramir asked again.  
  
'As I was saying, Yuletide begins tomorrow. If we leave the day after, make an easy two-day journey with a night's rest at the Crowing Cockerel, we can arrive at the Smials by tea-time the day before Year's End,' Pippin said.  
  
'I've heard of the Crowing Cockerel,' Legolas said. 'Someone mentioned the best beer on the road between Stock and Tuckborough.'  
  
'O aye,' Pippin said, 'and they ought to have some beer left, I think. One of the few crops that didn't fail completely was the hops.' He shook his head. 'At least we do not have to wait for a new brewing, from the supplies on the ships, to age and mellow.'  
  
'And what, after Yule?' Legolas said, to distract him momentarily from the thought of the ships and the debts they represented.  
  
'I have been away so much since the babe was born; I rather think Diamond would like me to stay awhile,' Pippin said, but then came back to the topic of the ships. 'When Merry sends word that the offloading of the ships is nearly done, and the fleet is ready to depart, I will return to Buckland with Tookland's gold.'  
  
He sighed, then brightened. 'You are welcome to stay at the Smials for as long as you wish, Legolas, or wander about the Shire, or return to Buckland. Once the Tooks get used to you, I don't think you need to worry about being shot full of arrows should you travel without escort on our roads and paths.'  
  
'That's reassuring,' Legolas said, 'I think.'  
  
'They still haven't got over the ruffians, you know,' Pippin said. 'Strider came close to losing a score of his guardsmen, had not one of my cousins decided to ask questions before shooting. Anybody over hobbit-height is automatically suspect. Dwarves may pass through with impunity, they're short enough. Fair Folk... they're tall, and might be mistaken for Men at first glance, but they have an air about them, when they choose to be seen at all, and so we have not shot any by accident... at least, not yet.'  
  
'What if I travel upon my knees?' Legolas asked.  
  
Pippin snorted. 'Well, that would make you shorter, in truth, but might make for slow travel.'  
  
'Indeed.' Legolas nodded solemnly. 'I will be safe enough, I suppose, travelling with you and Faramir?'  
  
Pippin made a great show of considering before nodding. 'I think so,' he said. 'As long as you stay close to us, you ought to be out of harm's way.' He paused. 'Would Gimli be coming as well?'  
  
'The Master has invited him to play the part of Father Yule at the Hall,' Legolas smiled. 'I think he will spend Yuletide here in Buckland, though he wishes to come to visit Tookland after Yule.'  
  
'He would receive a warm welcome from the Tooks,' Pippin said. 'We sent some engineers to study with the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain, and they brought back much valuable knowledge with them.' He scratched his chin. 'Come to think of it, you could probably travel safely about Tookland were Gimli by your side. The people would not shoot at you quickly were you walking with a dwarf.'  
  
'I am sure Gimli will be gratified to hear that,' Legolas answered.  
  
There was a knock on the door and a deferential servant stuck his head in at Pippin's hail.  
  
'Your bath is ready for you, Sir,' he said, withdrew his head, and closed the door again.  
  
'My bath?' Pippin said, surprised.  
  
'Ah, yes, when we saw you stir I let the staff know that they could prepare your bath,' Legolas said. 'It's a bit chilly this morning, even with the fire, don't you think? A hot bath will do wonders to warm you up.'  
  
Pippin stared at him, speechless.  
  
'I imagine you took quite a chill on the ride here from Hobbiton,' the elf continued. 'Would you not find "water hot steaming in a tub" preferable to "water cold streaming from above"?'  
  
'Legolas,' Pippin said, eyeing him with concern, 'I do believe we have corrupted you.'  
  
'I have come to the conclusion that we are long-lost relatives,' Legolas answered. He laughed at the hobbit's look of astonishment. 'Think on it,' he continued. 'Hobbits and elves must be cousins of a sort: we love good food, good wine, song, dance, making merry. And we can be warriors fierce and fearsome when pressed.' He took another bite from his plateful, closing his eyes to savour the mouthful.  
  
'You go ahead and have the first bath, Da,' Faramir put in. 'I've not quite finished telling Legolas the tale of the elf and the dwarf, yet.'


	81. Greeting the Thain

**81. Greeting the Thain**  
  
An efficient conspiracy resulted in the Thain's taking six meals that day. The Gamgees invited him to share second breakfast with them, and though he'd eaten heartily early on, the talk and laughter distracted him enough to consume a fair amount. Then Gimli sought him out when it was time for elevenses, just happening to suggest they seek a quiet corner in the great room, so that the dwarf could ask about Yuletide practices in the Shire. Everyone in the great room at the time was served elevenses, of course, by the efficient kitchen staff. At midday, Estella insisted that he join herself and Merry for a filling dinner, and at teatime, Elessar summoned him to a consultation with the captains of the ships, complete with savouries and sweets. Beregond found him later, at the desk in his room, writing a note to his steward, and persuaded him to share late supper with the guardsmen.  
  
Afterwards, he checked on Faramir, then fell into his bed, tired and replete, and was quickly asleep. The next day was much the same.  
  
The Thain and his son were awake early on the day after. Pippin had a few last-minute consultations with Elessar, the Master of Buckland, and the captains of the ships, and then he was ready to go, only to be balked by Legolas.  
  
'We must have second breakfast, before we start,' the elf insisted.  
  
'When did you begin eating second breakfast?' Pippin demanded.  
  
'Since discovering that elves and hobbits are distant relatives,' Legolas said. Gimli snorted at this, but held his peace. Pippin shook his head, but conceded.  
  
Finally they were on their way, crossing the River on the Ferry, under the nose of one of the anchored ships, waving at the curious sailors on the deck, who would not be allowed to set foot in the Shire, for the King had decreed that no more Men would be admitted to the Shire. Soon enough, his edict would again ban all Men, including himself.  
  
Pippin and Faramir rode ponies, but Legolas elected to stride along beside them. In truth, it was no difficulty for him to keep up, and talking was much easier than if he'd sat upon a tall horse; walking along, he was face-to-face with the mounted hobbits.  
  
The rain had cleared and the Sun shone brightly above, but the air was chill enough that they could see their breath, and the ponies', as they travelled. After a couple of hours, approaching an inn, the elf said, 'Ah, perfect timing!'  
  
'What is?' the Thain asked.  
  
'An inn! We can stop for elevenses,' the elf said.  
  
'When have you ever eaten elevenses?' Pippin asked in exasperation.  
  
'I discovered their delights at Brandy Hall,' the elf said. 'I am enjoying being related to hobbits more each day.'   
  
Faramir laughed, then said, 'I'm a bit hungry, myself, Da.'  
  
'Very well,' Pippin said. They tied up the ponies before the inn, no use putting them in the stables for such a brief time, and went in. The innkeeper was overwhelmed to have one of the Fair Folk at one of his tables, as well as the Thain, and as a result they ate very well indeed, even with such short notice.  
  
After mounting, they travelled on another two or three hours, until another inn came in sight. Legolas smiled, but Pippin spoke before he could open his mouth.  
  
'Don't tell me,' the Thain said. 'You're perishing of hunger and wish us to stop for dinner.'  
  
'What a good idea!' Legolas said, and Faramir hid a smile. The Thain sighed, but allowed the interruption in the journey, as they had been making good time and ought to arrive at the Crowing Cockerel around teatime...  
  
...which they did, and proceeded to enjoy tea, and stories, and hot baths, and late supper, and bed. It was altogether a very pleasant day of journeying halfway to Tuckborough.  
  
The next day, except for being considerably colder, was nearly the same. Inns were placed along the road at convenient intervals for travelling hobbits, and Legolas threw himself into his new role with enthusiasm, also making sure that at each stop, their table was situated close to a warming fire.  
  
As they were entering the last inn before Tuckborough, where they would take their midday dinner, they encountered Ferdibrand Took.  
  
'Hullo, Ferdi, what brings you here?' the Thain hailed him.  
  
'Watching out for you,' Ferdibrand said, eyeing Legolas with some awe and a great deal of suspicion. 'Diamond was expecting you home for Last Day, so I was fairly sure you'd be travelling this day.'  
  
'Regi fussing about the Thain having a proper escort, again?' Pippin said.  
  
Ferdi chuckled. 'Always,' he answered. 'Your escort will be ready to ride out when you are. I'll go tell them to saddle up now.' He also sent one of the hobbits back to Tuckborough at a gallop, though he didn't tell the Thain that.  
  
When he returned to join them at table, Pippin introduced Legolas.  
  
'_The_ Legolas?' Ferdi said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
'How am I supposed to take that?' Legolas asked.  
  
'Are the stories true?' was Ferdi's next question.   
  
The elf laughed. 'From the sampling I've heard, they're true enough,' he said.  
  
Ferdi shook his head. 'Cousin, I've wronged you,' he said frankly to Pippin. 'I thought all this time that you were spinning wool for our amusement.'  
  
'O no, the stories are all cut from whole cloth,' Pippin said solemnly.  
  
'Welcome to Tookland,' Ferdibrand said. 'I am at your service.'  
  
'At your service, and your family's,' Legolas said properly, with a bow, before settling to the floor to begin his meal.  
  
'He's part hobbit, you know,' Pippin said without further explanation, and tucked in to his food.  
  
Now with a proper escort, as opposed to a single elf, afoot, the Thain continued to Tuckborough.  
  
As they approached the outskirts of the town, they heard a shout, and then a cheer went up, and soon they were riding between two solid lines of hobbits on either side of the road through the town, shouting, cheering, singing, and waving bright cloths to greet their Thain. Legolas stole a glance at Pippin, wondering. Was this the careless tween who'd shared his journey through peril and adventure, not so long ago? The Thain was riding silently, a slight smile on his face, nodding to the right and to the left, acknowledging his people. The elf wondered what was going through his mind.  
  
In truth, Pippin was thinking of his last homecoming, the day before Remembering Day, only two months previous. The streets had been lined then, as well, but with silent, staring hobbits, Tooks and Tooklanders whose food had run out, who were reduced to eating their flocks and their herds for want of anything else, who saw even this last source of food dwindling, with nothing beyond but hunger... and death. They might have eaten longer had the Thain not ordered the supply of seed planted some weeks earlier; they could hardly dig it up again from the dusty ground.  
  
He had no hope to offer them, simply rode by in silence, hunger cramping his own belly, knowing their pain himself. When he reached the Smials, he dismounted, hugged his wife for a long moment, and closeted himself with his steward.  
  
'What will we eat when the flocks and herds are gone?' the steward had asked.  
  
The Thain had looked at him silently, for the space of several breaths. 'We'll start to eat the ponies,' he said finally. 'if we have to.'  
  
The steward had nodded. 'Will the King's wagons come?' he'd asked.  
  
The Thain had not answered.   
  
The next day was Remembering Day, and since the stream that ran through Tuckborough was all but dry, the hobbits who had loved ones to remember had travelled to Bywater, to set their lighted boats upon the water there, to camp after the ceremony on the dusty verge as there was no hurry to go home again, no hope at home or anywhere in the Shire.  
  
...but in the middle night swift riders came from Buckland, on their way to the far ends of the Shire. The wains had come from Rohan, filled with food, and had already crossed the Brandywine Bridge, making their way steadily closer.  
  
The Tooklanders packed up their belongings and walked homewards through the darkness, singing.  
  
Such were Pippin's thoughts, as he rode through the cheering throng to the Great Smials.


	82. Yule Celebrations

**82. Yule Celebrations**  
  
The Mistress of Tookland came out of the Smials beaming to greet them. She threw her arms around Faramir, exclaiming how he had grown since he went away to Lake Evendim all those months ago. Diamond had understood and agreed with Pippin's reasons for leaving their son in Buckland, but it was a relief to see him home, whole and sound. Pippin asked after his newest daughter and was informed that she was asleep, but he would be welcome to hold her when she wakened. The twins mobbed their father, climbing him as if he were a tree.   
  
Legolas looked on in bemusement, until Pippin put up his hands for relative calm and introduced the elf. Diamond allowed Legolas a brief bow over her hand before taking his elbow and her husband's arm and urging them into the Smials.  
  
'It is freezing out here!' she scolded. 'You'll catch your deaths!' Pippin rolled an eye at the elf, over her head, and Legolas smiled. 'Tea is just on,' Diamond was continuing. 'I hope that the Fair Folk don't mind plain hobbit fare.'  
  
'All is well, my love,' Pippin said. 'He is a long-lost relation.'   
  
She looked up in surprise, and then broke into a laugh. 'I suppose seedcake will do, then?'  
  
'Seedcake will do very well,' Legolas assured her.  
  
For all their clannish ways, it did not take the Tooks long to warm to the wood elf. His merry laughter, the hearty way he tucked into the food and drink, the songs he sang were enough to put the most suspicious Took at ease. Even the steward relaxed enough to trade stories with Legolas, over Pippin's protest.  
  
'...and then he pulled the chicken out from under his cloak. You should have seen their faces!' Regi said, and the elf threw back his head and laughed. The Thain fixed his steward with a stern look, but could not resist joining the laughter in the end.  
  
'He learned that trick from a guardsman in Minas Tirith,' Legolas said at last.  
  
'A guardsman!' Regi said in surprise. 'We found them very humourless fellows, indeed.'  
  
'Must have been the company,' Pippin said behind his hand.  
  
'Ah, yes, all they wanted was a hobbit or two to liven them up, I imagine,' Legolas said.  
  
'Possibly,' Regi said. 'I find Men rather difficult to deal with. Surly, and overtall. I do not know how they manage to walk without tangling those long legs of theirs.' He eyed the elf. 'How do elves manage to appear so graceful?'  
  
'It is an illusion, I assure you. We fall all over ourselves when we are not among other folk,' Legolas said.  
  
'Ah, well, it takes all kinds to make a world,' the Thain said philosophically. 'Think how boring it would be if all folk were the same.'  
  
'When do you need to go back?' Diamond asked.  
  
'Merry will send word by pony post. Two weeks after Yuletide ends, perhaps three. There's a lot of unloading to be done, and they can only tie up two ships at a time, one at each of the ferry landings,' Pippin answered. He turned the subject. 'Tomorrow will be Last Night,' he said. 'Are we ready?'  
  
'All is in readiness,' Diamond answered. A servant touched her shoulder, whispering in her ear, and she excused herself with a smile. 'Someone else is demanding her tea,' she said. 'No, do not get up, I shall not be long.'  
  
The servers had brought out more teacakes and freshened the cosied teapots when Diamond returned, depositing a bundle of blankets in her husband's lap. 'Greet your daughter,' she ordered with a grin.  
  
Pippin parted the blankets to look into unfocused eyes, tiny rosebud mouth fully occupied with miniscule thumb. 'Hullo, little Joy,' he said. He felt a presence hovering close and looked up into Legolas' face.  
  
'Joy?' the elf said softly.  
  
'Short for Jonquil, my mum's favourite flower,' the Thain smiled. 'Would you like to hold her?' Carefully, he handed the bundle to the elf, who took her as if she were rarest treasure. To an elf, she was.  
  
'Look!' Diamond said in wonder. 'She's smiling at you! That's her first real smile, I think.'  
  
Legolas smiled back, saying something softly in a language they did not understand, but the baby's eyes widened and she cooed in reply.  
  
'What is she saying?' Pippin asked whimsically.  
  
'She says that all is well with the world, and we are to be the best of friends,' Legolas answered.  
  
'You'll have to come oftener to the Shire if that's to be the case,' the Thain said.  
  
'I think I can manage that,' Legolas answered.  
  
'Good,' Diamond said firmly. 'Long-lost relations must not lose themselves again once they've been found.'  
  
'I quite agree,' Regi said unexpectedly. 'Whatever sort of hobbit is up your family tree must have been a Took.'  
  
'High praise indeed,' Legolas said, putting out a finger for the tiny Took to grasp.  
  
'Welcome to the family,' Rosamunda, Regi's wife laughed. 'Or perhaps I should say, welcome _back_ to the family.' Legolas smiled as the warmth of hobbit laughter washed around him.  
  
***  
  
Legolas found himself fully involved in Last-Night festivities. He accompanied the wagon bearing Father Yule into the courtyard of the Smials, to be greeted by a cheering crowd of young hobbits and their families.  
  
Father Yule jumped down from the wagon, quite spry for one of his evident age. Despite the recent famine, he was well-padded, and unlike hobbits, he bore a snowy-white beard, as soft as combed wool, upon his chin. Legolas climbed down behind him, handing him the scroll of names with a bow and a flourish. The hobbit children's eyes, and those of their parents, widened at the sight of one of the Fair Folk.  
  
'That has to be the _real_ Father Yule!' one young hobbit hissed to another who'd expressed skepticism earlier in the day. 'He has one of the Fair Folk helping him!'  
  
Father Yule unrolled the scroll to see the first few names. 'Faramir Took!' he boomed in a voice suspiciously like the steward's, only a bit deeper.  
  
Faramir stepped forward with a grin. 'Yes, Father Yule?' he said politely.  
  
The bearded figure peered at him from under his floury eyebrows. 'I understand you were teasing the twins last night, immediately after your arrival. What have you to say for yourself?'  
  
'I missed them,' Faramir said simply. 'Brandybucks are not half so much fun as my own brother and sister.'  
  
'Ah,' Father Yule said. He cleared his throat impressively, then said, 'Well, see to it that you do not stir them up just before bedtime, in future.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Faramir said. Father Yule nodded to his assistant, and Legolas handed him a bulging cap knitted of brightly dyed wool. 'Thank you!' Faramir said as Father Yule passed the cap to him, and he bowed and stepped back. Every year, the old aunties and gammers knitted these caps during the summer for Father Yule's convenience.  
  
Faramir opened his cap to find fat, firm apples and large nuts like those that had come on the wains of the Rohirrim, and he smiled. Father Yule would seem even more magical to the children this year, when the Shire's own harvest of fruit and nuts had been small, hard, and skimpy.  
  
A pair of children skipped forward when their names were called, stopping a few steps away and creeping up to Father Yule and his impressive assistant. 'Hilly, I hear you do not eat all your vegetables,' Father Yule said sternly. Turning to the slightly older brother, he added, 'And I hear you do not wash behind your ears before breakfast, Tally.' Little Talibold Took promised solemnly to reform his ways, and Hildibold Took said he would try his best to eat his vegetables, and both were given knitted caps bulging with fruit and nuts.  
  
When Father Yule reached the end of his list, he thanked all the hobbits for their attention, announced that hot cider and spicecake were being served in the great room, and mounted his wagon with his assistant, driving off with a wave to the cheering crowd.  
  
If anyone noticed that Reginard Took and Legolas the visiting elf-hobbit were a bit late slipping into the great room, no one remarked upon it.  
  
***  
  
There was a great deal of giggling in the kitchens of Buckland before Father Yule stepped out the back door to his waiting wagon. Gimli brushed some stray flour from his sleeves and nodded to his assistant.  
  
'You look very authentic,' Merimas Brandybuck told him with a grin. 'And you don't even need padding or a beard of combed wool!'  
  
'But how I shall ever get all this flour out is beyond me,' Gimli said grimly.  
  
'It will brush out easily enough,' Merimas said. 'You'll be fine as long as it doesn't rain, the stuff will harden so that you'll need a chisel to get it out.'  
  
'My thanks for the reassuring words, lad,' Gimli muttered. 'I do not know what I would do without your help.'  
  
'You could not be Father Yule, surely, for he always travels with a helper,' Merimas said. He bowed low. 'At your service.'  
  
'Let us get on with it,' the dwarf sighed, but Merimas could see a twinkle in his eye as he leapt from the wagon, took the scroll, and called the first name.


	83. All That Glisters

Notes to Readers: O good, I'm glad that folk liked Chapter 82. It was interesting to think of Yule traditions that would fit the Shire... I already wrote a bit about Yule in "Jewels", from the standpoint of tween- age on up... a feast, a dance (think BBC's "Pride and Prejudice" on a much larger scale), and then the young folk--tweens and 30-somethings--gather by the huge fireplace to roast mushrooms and bacon over the Yule log and talk long into the night about events of the past year and hopes for the future... until the Master wakens in the morning and chases the last of them off to their beds. But the holiday has a much different tone for parents and small children!  
  
Father Yule and his helper and the wagon of caps stuffed with nuts and fruit are modeled on the German "Niklaus" who visited our "Eck" each December 5th (during the years we lived in Germany), in full bishop's costume, on a wagon pulled by white horses, to read off a list of neighborhood children's names. 'Johann, I hear you've been teasing your sister...' 'Cornelia, you have not been eating your peas...' and the solemn little face nodding and the tiny voice assuring the impressive old fellow that they would indeed try to do better... and then his face would light up and he would hand them a paper hat filled with goodies... and in the morning their shoes would be stuffed with candy and fruit and nuts.  
  
Meeanwhile, and after the good old saint climbed into his wagon and drove away, the parents were quaffing hot mulled wine and cider and eating potato- dough donuts fried right there in the street in a barrel of oil over a fire, as I recall, tho memory is sketchy... the mulled wine, you know.  
  
Of course, hobbits don't wear shoes, so for our story the Muse and I just turned the paper hats into real hats, perfect for the wintry season, and so good of all the grannies to knit them through the summer for this night...  
  
But now we must turn our thoughts to upcoming events. Some have expressed weariness over the amount of angst in this story. Well, the designation is humor/angst, after all. And it was only supposed to be 5 chapters long. And remember, troubles follow Pippin like gnats, Bergil said so.  
  
But really, the story is drawing to a close (I am determined to stay under 100 chapters, really, I am. There will be more "Thain" stories, but they will not be attached to the end of this one, rather, they will stand alone). So this might very well be the last instance of Pippin-angst in "Rope". Other people... other angst... no promises. (peeking at outline) nope. no promises.  
  
If you are tired of Pippin-angst, kindly skip to chapter... 90, or so. But I will miss the reviews. *sigh* However, this was all on the outline and it ties earlier parts of the story to the end, so you'll just have to put up with it. I promise, it is not gratuitous angst. (Moi? Never. The Muse? Mayhap)  
  
***Angst Warning*** (If you are tired of angst, kindly skip this chapter. Thank you. Future chapters will not bear this warning. Simply know that breakers are ahead, and adjust your oars accordingly.)  
  
***  
  
Ch 83. All that Glisters  
  
On the third day of the New Year, Ferdi stuck his head in at the door of the Thain's study. 'You expecting a dwarf?' he asked. 'We've found one on the doorstep.'  
  
Gimli stepped from behind him, and Pippin greeted him with enthusiasm. 'Gimli!' he said. 'We expected you a day earlier!'  
  
'Just which inn was it, that was supposed to have the best beer on the Stock road?' Gimli grumbled. 'Tried them all, but I cannot say any one was better than the rest.'  
  
'You stopped at every inn?' Pippin asked.  
  
Legolas laughed. 'I do believe we will have to welcome him to the family, cousin,' he said. Gimli looked at the elf blankly, and Legolas hastened to explain. 'That seems to be the term of address around here. Everyone calls everyone else "cousin".'  
  
'Well, that's assuming you're a member of the family, cousin,' Pippin corrected.  
  
'You've been adopted by hobbits?' Gimli rumbled.  
  
'O no,' Pippin answered as the elf laughed. 'He adopted us.'  
  
'Ah,' said the dwarf. 'It was only a matter of time.' He took the glass of ale that the steward poured, sipped appreciatively, and sat down, resting his axe beside him. 'That's better. I just might adopt you myself.' He eyed Regi. 'Cousin.'  
  
The elf and the dwarf became a common sight about the Great Smials and Tuckborough, either singly or together, finding themselves showered with invitations to dinner and tea, hearing many stories about their young friend Pippin and his growing-up years that they'd not heard, even on the long trek from Rivendell to Parth Galen, when stories were a good way to pass the time while the route ahead was being scouted, or weather held them up, or danger forced them into hiding.  
  
Legolas added many songs to his collection, hobbit songs of hearth and table, garden and path, glade and stream and meadow, and sang his own songs to appreciative listeners.  
  
Two weeks after Gimli's appearance, a pony post rider from Buckland rode into the courtyard of the Great Smials, bearing a message from Master to Thain.  
  
Pippin read through the message, then put it down on the desk. 'The unloading is nearly finished,' he said quietly. 'The fleet will sail in a week, Merry thinks.' He turned to his steward. 'Is the gold weighed, and ready?'  
  
Regi nodded. 'We were able to fill two wagons,' he said. ' 'Twill take a six-pony team to pull each, they're that heavy.'  
  
'Two wagons,' Pippin said slowly. 'Perhaps, with Buckland's gold, 'twill be enough.'  
  
'I guess it will have to be,' Regi said, ever practical.  
  
Pippin turned to Ferdibrand. 'What's your plan for getting it to Buckland?'  
  
Ferdi steepled his fingers. 'I've been thinking on it. What guarantee do we have that there are no ruffians in the Shire? A lot of Men have passed in, Rohirrim driving wains, guardsmen, why not others...? And Men are worse than dwarves when sick with the desire for gold.'  
  
Gimli nodded to him. 'I thank you for that, I think.'  
  
'It is possible, that if ruffians have heard that the Thain plans to pay for the food with gold, they might set an ambush on the Stock road, once you get to the woods,' Ferdi continued.  
  
'All too likely,' the Thain agreed.  
  
'So we will have an ambush of our own,' Ferdi said.  
  
'What do you mean?' Regi asked.  
  
'We'll have two wagons on the road, a small escort, but the bulk will be walking in the woods to either side, archers, ready to shoot at the first sign of trouble,' Ferdi said.  
  
'As long as you lead them, Ferdi,' Pippin said. 'At least you didn't shoot the King's guardsmen when you encountered them, but kept a cool head.'  
  
'On second thought...' Ferdi said.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Two wagons, with an escort, might draw attention. I think we shall have the entire escort in the woods, cover over the gold with tarpaulin, and a layer of firewood,' Ferdi said. He was hoping that a couple of wagons of firewood would pass without comment at this time of year, and after some debate, the Thain upheld his suggestion.  
  
It was decided that Ferdi would drive the first wagon, Gimli would drive the second. Pippin would ride alongside, to answer any queries from passers- by. Tooks seeing the Thain would not think twice about the wagons of firewood, simply concluding that he was delivering wood to some needy Tookland gaffers or widows. The dwarf's presence would not be all that remarkable, as dwarves were occasionally to be seen on the road between Stock and Tuckborough.  
  
Legolas, however, would draw attention and remarks, so he would be with the archers in the woods, walking beside the road, walking abreast, and slightly ahead, and slightly behind the wagons.  
  
They would travel slowly, stopping at the Crowing Cockerel overnight, for gold made a heavy burden, even for six-pony teams. The Cockerel was the only inn big enough to accommodate the size of the escort Ferdi proposed, as well.  
  
Pippin blessed the icy January weather which kept most hobbits inside, though it made for a miserable journey. The archers marched along the road as long as they remained in open country; there was not much point in walking to the side with no concealment at hand. Once they reached the edge of the woods, near the end of the first day's journey, they melted into the underbrush, surprisingly hard to see in their dark, earth-toned cloaks, even with the trees bare of leaves in the wintry woods.  
  
They met very few along the road, and these were in such a hurry to get out of the chill that they did not stop to exchange pleasantries. Muffled up in his heavy wool cloak, Pippin doubted that they even recognised their Thain as they passed him, and with Gimli cloaked as well, they might not notice the dwarf's beard, merely thinking him a booted Bucklander driving homewards.  
  
The first day went uneventfully, and they were all glad to warm themselves at the Crowing Cockerel, with food and drink and roaring fires. Ferdi detailed hobbits to take turns watching over the wagons through the night, but none came near, and in the morning, the Thain breathed a sigh of relief. Half the journey was done, and if this day went as quietly as the last, well, he could turn his face homewards with two wagons full of the last of the food to be unloaded, instead of worrisome gold.  
  
'Or two wagons full of archers,' Ferdi said. 'You wouldn't make them walk all the way back, would you?'  
  
Pippin laughed, pushing his breakfast plate away. 'You're right, Ferdi, I ought to have thought of that myself. People come before food. All these regular meals are turning my head.'  
  
'You'll just have to keep at it, then, until you get used to it,' Ferdi said, while Legolas hid a smile.  
  
Pippin had decreed that they would drive the gold to the western ferry landing, to be loaded on a ship from there. No need to go all the way round by way of Brandywine Bridge, to Buckland, after all. The gold might be too heavy for the ferry, but one of the great ships wouldn't have the same trouble, and loading it onto a ship would go much the same as offloading had gone, he didn't wonder.  
  
The second day of travel went much as the first had done. Legolas, Gimli, and Ferdibrand conspired to stop at each inn along the way, so that they had brief, warming rests along with second breakfast, elevenses, and a late nooning. They had left the last inn behind and been driving slowly for nearly an hour, only about two more hours of slow driving to the River, when four tall figures on proud horses appeared ahead of them, approaching at an easy trot. Legolas, watching from behind a screen of brambles, stiffened, then relaxed as he recognised the guardsmen's uniforms.  
  
The leading black-and-silver figure reined his horse to a stop as they drew up to the lead wagon, and dismounted. The Thain pulled up his pony next to the wagon, and the guardsman bowed gracefully.  
  
'The King sent us to escort you the rest of the way,' he said.  
  
'Did Strider have any message for us?' the Thain asked, and at the other's hesitation he looked more keenly at the other.  
  
'I don't know you,' he began. 'You're not--' but before he could finish the thought, the guardsman swept his sword from the scabbard and thrust with deadly accuracy at the hobbit's heart, knocking him from the saddle. The other three Men spurred forward, swords out; one fell at a stroke from Gimli's axe, and the other three, including the leader, were quickly cut down, pierced with arrows that flew from behind trees at each side of the road.  
  
With a cry of grief, Ferdi threw himself from the wagon seat, but Legolas was quicker, seeming to come out of nowhere, to kneel by the Thain, lifting him gently. Hobbits emerged from the woods to crowd around with stricken faces.  
  
'Stand back!' the elf ordered tersely. 'Give him air!' It seemed incredible that Pippin was still breathing after that stroke, but Legolas could see the chest rise and fall, ragged edges of the cloak fluttering.  
  
Pippin opened his eyes and gasped, 'Legolas...'  
  
'Don't try to talk,' the elf said softly, fingers pulling back the slashed fabric to expose what must be a gaping wound.  
  
Only... there was no gaping wound, no rush of bright life's blood, rather a gleam of a different sort, as if light itself had been captured and lay beneath the torn wool.  
  
Legolas felt his own breath catch in his throat. 'Mithril...' he breathed. 'Frodo's mithril coat.'  
  
'Aye,' Pippin whispered, fingers going to his breast, sore and battered from the force with which the sword had struck him down. 'Mayor Sam pressed it upon me before we left Bag End. He thought it might be a good thing to wear with Men loose in the Shire.'  
  
***  
  
*Author's Note: (yes, the title is not a mistake)  
  
"All that glisters is not gold", a proverbial expression (see the following):  
  
Chaucer, Canon's Yeoman's Tale, 243-44: "But al thyng which that shineth as the gold/Nis nat gold, as that I have herd it told."  
  
Spenser, The Faerie Queene, II, viii, 14: "Yet gold all is not, that doth golden seeme."  
  
Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, Act II, scene vii:  
  
All that glisters is not gold;  
  
Often you have heard that told:  
  
Many a man his life hath sold  
  
but my outside to behold...  
  
There is also a very sad poem about a cat drowning in a goldfish bowl... but that is simply too much angst for one chapter... 


	84. As Useless as Gold

84. As Useless as Gold  
  
'Legolas,' Gimli said urgently, bending close. 'Take one of their horses, ride for the King.' When the elf didn't respond, he said under his breath, 'Mithril coat or no, we do not know what damage that blade might have done.' The elf's eyes met his, and he added, 'You'd be quicker'n any of us on a pony.'  
  
'Pippin?' Ferdi said unbelievingly, tears still on his face.  
  
'All's well, cousin,' the Thain whispered, but his head fell back on the elf's arm. 'Cold,' he said, closing his eyes.  
  
The dwarf held out his arms and the elf transferred his burden to them, then Legolas removed his own cloak to wrap it around Pippin. 'We'll go back to that last inn,' Gimli said. Legolas nodded, rose, and with a swift motion he caught one of the false guardsmen's skittering horses and was off at a gallop.  
  
'Turn the wagons around!' the dwarf shouted. 'We'll go back to the inn!' The hobbits sprang to comply. Ferdi sent Tolly off on the Thain's pony at a gallop, back to the inn to prepare for their arrival, and from there to the Smials, to inform the steward of the attack. Using the post ponies kept at each inn along the way, the message would pass quickly.  
  
'Load the bodies onto the second wagon,' Gimli ordered. 'The King will want to see them.' Still bearing the Thain, he climbed up on the seat of the first wagon, Ferdi beside him to take the reins. The hobbit slapped the reins and shouted to the ponies, tickling them with the whip as they slowly gathered speed, until he estimated they were proceeding at their best pace. Half the archers trotted along beside and following the wagon, bows in hand, ready to shoot at the slightest provocation.  
  
Behind them, the second wagon was loaded with its grim additional cargo, false guardsmen's horses tied on behind. Another Took jumped to the seat of this wagon, and soon it followed the first, surrounded by its own group of grim-faced archers.  
  
***  
  
Legolas covered the distance to the ferry in a fraction of an hour, pushing the guardsman's horse to its utmost limits. He pounded past the line of waiting wagons, pulling up at the ferry landing, horse shuddering and blowing hard. The landing had been extended further into the River, allowing one of the large ships to tie up and unload from the end of the dock, while the ferry could pull in to one side. Great ships notwithstanding, it was still twenty miles further to reach Buckland by way of Brandywine Bridge, and ferry traffic must needs continue.  
  
To his dismay, the elf saw that the ferry was partway across the River, on its way to Buckland.  
  
'Call it back!' he ordered the hobbits on the near side.  
  
'It's near halfway across!' one ferry worker protested. ' 'Twon't take that long to finish the job and come back. There's folk over there been waiting longer'n you have.'  
  
'Call the ferry back!' was all the elf said, and the hobbits quailed before his face and voice, the worker who had at first protested fumbling for the horn at his belt and raising it to blow a great blast. The ferry paused midstream, and all the hobbits on the western side waved frantically. The ferry began to retrace its way.  
  
'I must walk my horse,' Legolas said, 'but I will be ready to depart as soon as the ferry reaches the landing.' He spoke softly to the staggering beast and led it in slow circles, one eye on the ferry's approach.  
  
Scarcely had the ferry docked and the hobbits laid down the planks to join it to the landing, but Legolas led the horse onto the ferry, saying, 'Cast off! Make all speed for Buckland!' He stroked the horse's lathered neck, murmuring soft words in a language the ferry-hobbits did not know, then said to one of the hobbits, 'He has run hard, and will need to be walked when we reach the opposite shore. Will you take him?' The hobbit, finding it difficult to look into the stern face of the elf, nodded and reached out for the reins. He would rather brave this enormous horse, which seemed tame enough at the moment, aye, barely on its feet, than dare to refuse the request.  
  
'Hold the ferry when we reach Buckland,' the elf ordered. The hobbits nodded assiduously.  
  
Before the ferry had tied up, Legolas sprang onto the landing and was racing for the King's pavilion, shouting.  
  
'Who was that?' the hobbit holding the horse's reins said.  
  
'I don't know, one of the Fair Folk, but not the one that came with the ships,' another answered. 'That one was merry and laughing, and this... this one is tall and terrible.' He shuddered. 'You'd better start walking that horse before he comes back.' The other nodded and moved quickly to comply.  
  
Inside the pavilion, consulting with Fargold, Elessar heard a voice calling. 'Aragorn!'  
  
'Legolas?' he said, rising.  
  
Captain Fargold answered, 'Sounds like... but...'  
  
They heard the elf demanding of the guardsmen at the entrance, 'Is the King within?' and barely had he received an answer than Legolas was thrusting his way in.  
  
'Aragorn!' he gasped. 'The hobbits...'  
  
'What is it, Legolas?' the King snapped.  
  
'Treachery--the hobbits were attacked on their way to Buckland. Pippin--'  
  
Elessar turned to Bergil. 'I want a dozen guardsmen mounted on the fastest horses,' he said. 'First saddle my own horse, and one for Legolas.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' Bergil said, and was gone.  
  
The King turned back to the wood elf. 'We'll meet them at the ferry landing,' he said.  
  
'Do you have athelas?' Legolas said urgently.  
  
Elessar smiled grimly. 'Always,' he said. 'I sent for a fresh supply after healing Meriadoc.' A guardsman held his cloak out to him and he quickly muffled himself against the bitter chill outside, nodding to the elf to take the cloak that another guardsman was holding out.  
  
As they reached the landing, they saw Bergil, mounted, leading two horses behind him, more guardsmen following, and all quickly gathered at the ferry.  
  
'We can take only four at a time,' the King said to his guardsmen. 'Follow us, we'll be riding down the Stock road, to...'  
  
'To the first inn, the Blue Goose,' Legolas said. 'That's where they were taking him.'  
  
The King turned to one of the hobbits waiting for the ferry. 'Go to the Hall, tell the Master that the Thain's been injured; he'll find us at the Blue Goose in Eastfarthing.'  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the hobbit made a quick bow and raced for the Hall. The King, Legolas, Bergil and another guardsman led their horses onto the ferry; the King nodded to the ferry-hobbits to cast off.  
  
'Make the best speed you can,' Elessar said, and the ferry-hobbits threw themselves into their work.  
  
Reaching the other side, they leapt into their saddles and raced past the staring line of hobbits, down the Stock road towards Tuckborough.  
  
***  
  
'There's the inn!' one of the archers shouted, pointing ahead.  
  
'Good,' Gimli said. 'The King ought to be here soon; they'll have travelled much faster than we could.'  
  
As the wagons pulled up before the Blue Goose, Pippin opened his eyes, saying, 'Ferdi!'  
  
'I'm here, cousin,' Ferdibrand said, bending closer.  
  
Pippin gestured slightly to the archers, who'd moved to form a protective screen around the wagon as soon as they'd stopped. 'Don't let them shoot the King or his guardsmen -- the real guardsmen,' he whispered.  
  
' 'Twill be difficult,' Ferdi said, 'but I'll try to restrain them.' To Gimli he said, 'Come now, let's get him in where it's warm.'  
  
The innkeeper met them, face grey with shock and worry, wringing his hands. 'Is the Thain...?'  
  
'No, not quite,' Pippin opened his eyes to say, and the innkeeper stepped back again, all bustle now.  
  
'Bring him this way, Sirs,' he said, leading them past his staring family and hired hobbits, straight to the best room where a fire blazed brightly on the hearth and the bed was already warming with flannel-wrapped heated bricks.  
  
Gimli laid his burden down upon the bed, unwrapping the elf's cloak from around Pippin. As he reached to remove Pippin's own cloak, the hobbit feebly stayed his hand.  
  
'We have to see what that sword did,' Gimli said, hands gentle for all the gruffness in his voice.  
  
'No,' Pippin shook his head. 'You said... the King is coming?'  
  
'Aye, lad,' Gimli nodded, trying again to pull away the cloak, but Pippin did not loose his hand.  
  
'I know what it feels like,' the Thain whispered. 'Feels as if I've been split in two.' He gasped for breath. 'Let's maintain the illusion that I'm in one piece, just a bit longer, shall we?'  
  
He closed his eyes and added, 'We'll wait for Strider. Perhaps his athelas will help.' After a few more gasping breaths, he said, 'Ferdi?'  
  
'I'm here,' Ferdi repeated, bending closer. 'Let us examine you, cousin, we can try to ease you.'  
  
Pippin did not seem to hear him, but said again, 'Ferdi?' Then, incredibly, he chuckled. 'Seems a terrible irony, to have been sick near to death all these years, miraculously healed, and now struck down by a ruffian's sword, in my own land, over something as useless as gold.'  
  
'Pippin,' Ferdi pleaded, 'Save your breath.'  
  
The Thain's eyes opened. 'What breath?' he asked. 'Think of the time I could have saved everyone, had I died in my own bed, rather than here... Where is here? Where's Diamond?' He looked about him, trying to sit up, but hands forced him back and he soon gave up the attempt.  
  
'You're not dying!' Ferdi snapped. 'Lie down!'  
  
'Could have fooled me,' Pippin whispered, and his eyes closed again as he struggled for air. 


	85. All This Way for Nothing

Note to Readers: Sorry to keep you all hanging. Shall I post two chapters this day, since I missed yesterday? Please advise. (grin) BTW, over in "Striking Sparks" we are drawing to a close, however, a new romance has reared its head and... just perhaps... Ferdi may get a story of his own. I am growing ever fonder of this particular Took (but then, I have written "Rope" all the way through chapter 90. I am sure you will like him as well as I do when you've read that far).  
  
***  
  
Chapter 85. "All this Way for Nothing"  
  
Now came faintly to their ears the sound of shouting and clatter of horse's hoofs on the stones of the yard. The Thain did not open his eyes, but Ferdibrand jumped to his feet, exclaiming, 'The King!' He raced from the room.  
  
'Stand fast, ruffians!' one of the Tooks was shouting, 'or we'll serve you the same dish your fellows ate!'  
  
'Stuff it down their throats,' another muttered threateningly.  
  
'Hold!' a third said, 'Ferdi said not to shoot unless he gave the order.'  
  
As Ferdi emerged from the inn, he saw a ring of hobbit archers surrounding four tall horses that reared and plunged. Between the hobbits and the horses, the riders had their hands full, but Ferdi recognised one of the riders with relief.  
  
'Hold!' he shouted himself, striding forward. 'Put up your weapons!' The arrows were reluctantly lowered, though the hobbits continued to glower at their prey, fingers obviously itching to shoot.  
  
'Legolas,' Ferdi cried, 'You came quickly. Did you bring the King?' He eyed the tall men who accompanied the elf. They were indistinguishable in their black cloaks, all tall, dark-haired, grey-eyed. Two of the Men appeared older than the other; Ferdi supposed one of them must be Elessar. The younger one looked like the friend of the Thain who'd stopped briefly in Tuckborough... Bergil.  
  
His conjecture was rewarded as one of the older men swung down, going to one knee on the icy stones before the hobbit to speak eye-to-eye. 'I am Elessar,' he said quietly.  
  
'What is the Thain's name for you?' Ferdibrand demanded, still suspicious, and at his tone the nearest archers lifted their bows slightly.  
  
'He calls me Strider,' Elessar said, meeting the challenging gaze.  
  
Ferdibrand nodded, satisfied. 'He lies within. Follow me.' The King had to duck to enter, and could not straighten completely once he was within. As he followed Ferdibrand, he said, 'Legolas told me he was wearing the mithril coat, else the sword would have pierced his heart.'  
  
'Aye,' the hobbit said grimly. 'But he still acts as if he's dying.' He looked up at the tall Man for reassurance, only to find the other's face as grim as his own.  
  
'The mithril turned the blade but did not stop the force behind the thrust,' the King muttered. 'At the very least he will be bruised and battered, and worse damage might have been done under the skin.'  
  
Ferdi stopped at a door guarded by hobbits and gestured for the King to enter. Elessar ducked into the room, to be greeted with a cry of relief from the dwarf. The Thain, pale, scarcely seeming to breathe, did not move or open his eyes.  
  
'He did not want to be touched,' Gimli muttered anxiously, '...said he'd wait for you to come.'  
  
The King nodded, hands already removing cloak, shirt, and then, more carefully, mail coat. The rings had been driven through the underlying leather into the flesh, and Elessar carefully sponged away the bloody smears to reveal the blooming bruises beneath.  
  
Legolas entered with a steaming basin, and Elessar fumbled at the pouch that hung from his neck, extracting several leaves which he breathed upon, crushed between his palms, and cast into the water. The living fragrance of athelas rose from the basin and began to fill the room. The King took a clean cloth, dipped it into the fragrant water, and bathed the bruised flesh, dipped the cloth again, wrung it out, and laid it upon the breast as if it were a mustard plaster or poultice.  
  
'...but he survived being crushed beneath a troll,' Legolas murmured. 'How can this stroke fell him?'  
  
The King glanced up. 'We spoke of this before you left Buckland,' he said, 'do you remember?'  
  
'I remember... "What will he do when will fails him?", you said,' the elf answered softly. 'I have done all I could do, Elessar. He has rested. He has eaten six meals each day, sometimes seven. He has laughed, and sung, and held his new daughter. He has seen his people come to new life, and new hope.'  
  
'We must hope it was enough,' the King said.  
  
He renewed the compress in the athelas-water as it cooled, adding boiling water from a kettle several times, before calling for a new basin and starting over with fresh leaves.  
  
'Such a refreshing smell,' the innkeeper said as he brought more water into the room, several hobbits bearing laden trays following him.  
  
'One would hope so,' the King muttered, not taking his eyes from the Thain.  
  
Ferdi sat in a chair nearby, and now began mechanically to eat the food the innkeeper pressed upon him. He did not know how long he sat there, watching, but suddenly Regi was there. 'How...?' Ferdibrand asked.  
  
'I rode here all the way at a gallop,' Regi said. 'Thank the Thain and the Master for keeping post ponies at every inn along the Stock road.' He held out a bag to the King. 'Here,' he said abruptly. 'I do not know if this would help, I only know that it helped once before, when we had no hope.' He gazed intently into the Man's face. 'You do not look all that hopeful.'  
  
Elessar reached into the bag with care, removing a bottle he'd given Sam, nearly a year ago, as the Gamgees were turning homewards from their long stay in Gondor. However, the bottle was not empty as it had left Gondor, but half full of a clear liquid, which when held up to the light, had a slightly greenish hue.  
  
'We have to get it into him somehow,' the steward muttered, staring at the Thain.  
  
'Sit him up,' Elessar said abruptly, taking an empty cup from one of the trays and filling it from the bottle. Gimli lifted the Thain while the others slipped pillows behind him to prop him up. Bending over Pippin, Elessar said urgently, 'Pippin!' To Ferdi and Regi, hovering protectively, he said, 'I'm going to have to hurt him, try to waken him enough to swallow this. I don't have the right kind of feeding tube with me to pour it down his throat for him.'  
  
The hobbits nodded soberly. Reassured that they were not about to try to wrestle him away from his patient, he applied skillful pressure at a calculated spot, a trick of healers to try to rouse an unresponsive patient. Pippin stirred, and the King called his name again, pressing harder on the tender spot, digging in with his thumbnail without mercy.  
  
Pippin's head jerked and he moaned, half opening his eyes. 'It's not enough,' he gasped, 'that a ruffian tries to spit me on his sword, but you, Strider...?'  
  
The King took advantage of this momentary rousing, pressing the cup to Pippin's lips, commanding him to swallow, then tilting the cup, hoping the Thain would not choke. The liquid went down smoothly, however, and he let the hobbit slip back into the restful darkness when the cup was empty.  
  
Hefting the bottle, the King said, 'Is this the ent draught he told me about?'  
  
Regi nodded soberly. 'We had some left after the cure. He told me to put it away for a rainy day. Since those... tree creatures made it especially for the Thain, I hoped it might have some healing virtue left.'  
  
As the afternoon wore into evening, the King continued to renew the athelas compress and steam. Some time after darkness fell, the Thain roused again, this time without application of pain, and was coaxed to drink another cupful of the ent draught.  
  
Just as the innkeeper was bringing in trays of food for late supper, the sound of ponies' hoofs came faintly from the courtyard and shortly Diamond appeared in the doorway. 'Is he...?' she said anxiously, then crossed to the bed, to take up her husband's hand. 'It's like a bad dream,' she said, 'to live this all over again.'  
  
At the sound of her voice, Pippin turned his head on the pillow and opened his eyes. 'Hullo, my love,' he said. 'I hope you didn't come all this way for nothing.' 


	86. Bywords

Note to Readers: Xena, your wish is my command. Here is another chapter, to make up for yesterday's dearth.  
  
***  
  
Chapter 86. Bywords  
  
The Blue Goose was bursting at the seams, what with the Thain and his family taking up several rooms, not to mention the Thain's escort and steward, the King and the wood elf and the dwarf and the dozen guardsmen, who were actually not in the inn, proper, but staying in loft of the stables. When the Master of Buckland rode into the yard in the morning, accompanied by half a dozen Rohirrim on tall horses, the innkeeper could not suppress a moan. His wife patted him on the shoulder, saying, 'Perhaps they will all leave today, dearie,' then took up her tray for the Thain, leaving him to bury his face in his hands. Either there was no business at all, save a wandering dwarf who only wanted to sample the beer, or there was more than he could manage. He wondered if he ought to go back to woodcutting, but it was a chilly job in the wintertime.  
  
The King was in the stables, looking at the false guardsmen.  
  
'You can see that they are none of them ours,' Bergil said, exposing the last face. 'They are ruffians, for certain.' He pointed to an extra hole in the nearest "guardsman's" hauberk. 'Look. They shot our men down, took their gear, took their place.'  
  
'How many rogue guardsmen do we have wandering about the Shire?' the King said bleakly. 'And how did they know about the gold?'  
  
'The gold is easy enough,' the grizzled sergeant said. 'It would have been talked about in Bree, the hobbits' determination to pay their way, not to accept charity from the King. There was some grumbling in Breeland, I heard, that they ought to pay their way as well, but they do not have the gold that the Thain is reputed to have.'  
  
'They could have watched the unloading,' Bergil added. 'Once they saw it was nearly through, they could expect the payment to be on its way from Tuckborough. Just a few careful questions while drinking at the Prancing Pony and they'd have all the information they'd need. All they had to do was watch for heavy wagons pulled by more than the usual number of ponies.'  
  
'We had a hundred guardsmen in Buckland,' the sergeant said. 'I don't know of any missing. Perhaps these came down from Fornost... I mean, the ones whose gear we are now seeing.'  
  
'Ruffians bold enough to slay the King's guardsmen,' Elessar shook his head. 'I don't like this. Did they attack four together? ...or was each a messenger, slain as he came along? And in that case, how many messages have we missed? Were they coming from Fornost or Gondor?' He looked up. 'In any event, we are not stirring from Buckland until we find some answers. I will not put the Queen and our children at risk, nor those of Ithilien and Rohan.'  
  
He turned to the sergeant. 'Take five guardsmen with you back to Buckland. I want you to send groups of ten to Fornost and South along the Greenway to the first outpost, find out what messages have been sent. We will compare their records to what we have received. I want to know exactly who's missing, and how many. In future, messengers are to go out in force. It won't be as swift, but it may be more sure.' The sergeant saluted and went to gather his men.  
  
'Ruffians in the Shire?' a voice said quietly behind them. The King turned to see the Master of Buckland, flanked by Eomer and five other tall Riders of Rohan. Merry was nodding. 'Estella was right,' he said. 'I thought she was being hysterical, and I only waited until daylight to come, and accepted Eomer's offer of escort, to calm her. I should have known better.' He looked grimly at the bodies laid out in the straw. 'And worse,' he said. 'Ruffians in the guise of guardsmen. Perhaps the Tooks have the right of it.'  
  
'Shoot first, ask questions afterwards?' Elessar said wryly. 'A bit hard on the legitimate guardsmen, wouldn't you say?'  
  
'Renegade Men can be a bit hard on hobbits,' Merry answered implacably. He'd had his own run-ins with ruffians, once with his wife, rescued barely in time by Rangers, and he had the scars to show for it.* Estella's old nightmare had returned, for good measure, last night, and he'd been afraid that her distress might somehow harm her or the unborn child. 'What do you propose, Strider?'  
  
'First we need to know what we are dealing with,' the King said. 'I will meet with a Ranger later today, spread the word amongst the Watchers, find out what they have seen and heard. This might be an isolated incident, or there might be a nest of vipers needing to be cleaned out.'  
  
'I'd suggest any of your guardsmen riding about the Shire employ an escort of hobbits, then,' Merry said, 'for their own safety, especially in Tookland. The Tooks will be very upset over this. I was glad just now to see that Pippin was not killed outright, and is well enough this morning to sit up and eat breakfast, but that will not go far to placate the Tooks. And that gold still has to be got to the ships.'  
  
'With a dozen guardsmen and Rohirrim, and a score of Tookish archers, I do not think that will be a problem,' Elessar returned.  
  
Pippin came into the stables, walking slowly, Regi and Ferdi flanking him. 'Then let us take the gold now and be done with it,' he said. 'It is a danger to the good innkeeper and his family, having it here, if there are still ruffians after it.'  
  
'What are you doing out of bed?' Elessar said in exasperation.  
  
'Walking,' Pippin said simply. 'A great pleasure for someone struck to the heart, let me tell you.'  
  
'And you feel up to riding?' the King asked, his voice deceptively mild.  
  
'Why not? The pony does all the work.' The Thain eyed the King. 'Strider, there's no point in ordering me back to bed. It's like the old saw about teaching a pig to sing.'  
  
'A waste of your time, and it annoys the pig,' Ferdi added helpfully.  
  
Regi said, 'He will not rest as long as the gold remains in those wagons.' He glanced aside at the Thain. 'Otherwise, I'd be sitting on him myself.'  
  
'A conspiracy of Tooks,' the King muttered.  
  
'Yes, and they're likely to shoot you full of arrows if you cross them,' Merry said philosophically. 'You can never be too careful, dealing with Tooks. Shortest tempers in the Shire. "Tetchy as a Took" is a byword in the Shire.'  
  
'I thought it was "Stubborn as a Took".' Elessar said.  
  
'That's another. Tooks are famous for many things,' Reginard said. 'Most of them uncomplimentary.'  
  
***  
  
Note: See "Ruffians", also on ff.net, for details of Merry and Estella's encounter with ruffians. Warning, "Ruffians" is rated PG-13. 


	87. Payment in Full

Chapter 87. Payment in Full  
  
'Regi, I want you to send Ferdi and half the archers back to Tuckborough, along with the coach with my family,' Pippin said. At Diamond's protest, he put up a silencing hand. 'No,' he said, and Diamond knew that tone, the one that brooked no contradiction, no argument, the "stubborn rock of a Took" that would not be moved. 'It is too dangerous,' he said. 'Gold is poison, and I will not have you near it. The sooner we're rid of it, the better; and I want you back in the Smials, with guards about you, as long as there are Men loose in the Shire.'  
  
He would not tell her of the horrors he'd heard, and seen, among Men in Gondor. Kidnapping for ransom... and worse. The things that renegade Men did to those weaker than themselves, he could not begin to describe. Better to shuffle his family off to safety, to be thought of as a fusspot, than to let them experience for themselves what he feared. The things that renegade Men would do for gold...  
  
'You're going on with the gold?' Reginard asked quietly. 'Why not go back to Tuckborough in the coach, with your family? How do you expect to ride a pony? You can hardly stand by yourself! I could take the gold to the ships.'  
  
'No,' Pippin said again. 'I must see the debt paid, Regi, surely you must understand this.'  
  
The steward conceded defeat. 'Very well, on one condition.'  
  
'And that is...?' Pippin said quietly.  
  
'I will ride with you. That way if you should start to slump in the saddle, someone will be there to catch you.'  
  
Pippin laughed, a hand to his chest to ease the discomfort. 'Very well. I can't think of any I'd rather have beside me.'  
  
With relief he saw the coach off, some of the archers riding borrowed ponies, some slipping through the woods to be ready for any possible repeat of the trouble with ruffians already seen on this road.  
  
Then King Elessar and his guardsmen, King Eomer and his Rohirrim, Legolas and Gimli and the remaining hobbits transported the gold, without incident, to Buckland. Elessar urged them to take the gold across the Brandywine Bridge and through the North Gate, for the Bucklebury landing was much more secure from attack than the landing on the western side of the River.  
  
The Thain was swaying in his saddle as they pulled up before the Hall, steadied from both sides by his steward and one of his archers. King Elessar himself eased the hobbit from the saddle and carried him into the Hall, taking him to the bed in the rooms always kept in reserve for the Thain's use, laying him down, saying, 'Rest. The debt can be paid tomorrow as well as today. The ships will not sail in the night.'  
  
'They had better not,' Pippin whispered in reply. 'I do not like to think of driving the wagons all the way to Gondor with ruffians about.' The King smiled, smoothing the covers over his stubborn friend, and sat down next to the bed.  
  
'You don't have to watch with me, Strider,' Pippin said sleepily. He yawned. 'I'm...' his voice trailed away and he slept.  
  
Mayor Samwise peeked in. 'How is he?' he asked. 'They just told me you'd come in; they seem to think my life is not complete without a nap after tea.'  
  
'Recovering nicely,' Elessar answered. 'He should be himself in a week or two.'  
  
'And I'm to find that reassuring?' Sam said. The King chuckled.  
  
'They'll be serving up late supper soon,' the Mayor continued. 'Will he need a tray as well as yourself?' he said, nodding to the bed.  
  
'I don't think he'll waken,' Elessar said. 'He shouldn't have been on a pony for some days yet.'  
  
Sam snorted. 'When has he ever listened to healers? You ought not have been surprised.'  
  
'I wasn't,' the King said softly. Sam smiled, nodded, and left the room.  
  
In the middle night, Legolas softly entered, placing a hand on the King's shoulder. 'How is he?' he asked.  
  
'Not too much the worse for wear, I think,' Elessar said. 'His will is strong.'  
  
'Good,' Legolas replied. 'You take some rest yourself,' he said. 'We will be busy in the near future, hunting wolves dressed as sheepdogs, I think.' The King nodded and rose to his feet, ducking out the doorway, and the elf added some wood to the fire on the little hearth and settled in his place next to the bed.  
  
In the morning, a soft knock came at the door and a servant quietly brought in a tray, laid it on the table, poured out tea for the elf in one of the guest-sized mugs, and left again with a quick bow to Legolas, who nodded his thanks. He sipped the hot drink, then turned away to put another log on the fire. When he looked back to the bed, Pippin's eyes were open, watching him.  
  
'You must think me completely simple,' the hobbit said. Legolas raised an eyebrow. 'No, really, I know you must,' Pippin continued. 'How I let people take care of me, seeing to it that I eat, making sure I rest properly, even laying out warm clothes for me that I might not take a chill, as well as keeping a fire going through the night.' His eyes went to the little hearth and back to the elf.  
  
'But fighting them took more energy than I had, for such a long time, that I just got in the habit of letting them. It is such a simple thing, and it gives them such pleasure... and there is so much else that demands my attention...' his eyes fell on the tray of food, waiting on the table. 'For so long, too, it was more duty than pleasure to eat, I had to force myself to take in what I could stomach, and hope it was enough. I almost resented their reminding me that I must eat, much as I realised it was necessary. As for taking rest... every time I'd close my eyes, I'd wonder if they would open again to the light.'  
  
He smiled. 'Frodo told me once that you elves call our mortality a gift. It was another thing to wonder about... he knew that if he could keep me wondering, I would not think of the pain in my feet or the emptiness of my belly on that long, long journey...  
  
'A bitter gift, it seemed, when I watched the blossoming of my children, knowing I would never live to see the harvest. No matter how I grasped a day, it would always slip away. And then I was healed, and the days stretched before me in endless wonder... I thought it must be a little of what the elves feel... but the wonder is not endless, is it? Your life is a river, flowing by, and mine is a pitcher, and someday the last drop will be poured. Each day is to be treasured; I see the gift now. I wonder if the elves know to grasp at each day in turn, a gold coin to lie upon the palm but a moment, or are they merely content to bury the hoard, knowing it is all there in a heap, never-ending. Do they know?'  
  
He looked again to the elf, eyelids growing heavier, and said, 'You must think... but I've had much time to wonder...' He sighed, and slept again. The elf felt an unfamiliar ache at his throat, and a pricking behind his own eyelids, and he sat very still, letting his tea grow cold as he watched the other sleep.  
  
Later, Regi put his head in at the door. Scowling at the untouched tray, he said, 'You're getting as bad as he is!'  
  
'That was for me?' Legolas said, bemused.  
  
'Whom else would you think it was for?' the steward of Tookland grumbled. He took the tray from the table with a jerk and left the room.  
  
He returned later with a servant, both bearing trays.  
  
'Wakey, wakey,' Reginard said briskly. Pippin groaned and opened one eye. 'You've slept through early breakfast and second breakfast and you're in danger of missing elevenses if you're not careful,' the steward scolded. 'And you're getting just as bad, cousin,' he scolded Legolas. 'Call yourself a proper hobbit...' he grumbled, 'Now, eat!'  
  
The Thain and the elf ate.  
  
Pippin being still very stiff and sore, Legolas helped him into his clothes, smiling at the ironic look the Thain gave him as he carefully fastened the woollen cloak, pulling it firmly about Pippin's neck and shoulders to ensure no searching fingers of wind would find their way in.  
  
Merry and Samwise met them at the main entrance to the Hall, and Legolas relinquished Pippin to them. 'They're awaiting us in the King's pavilion,' Merry said. Together, the three Counsellors of the North-kingdom representing the Shire walked to the pavilion, at a slow pace to accommodate the still-recovering Thain. The guardsmen before the entrance admitted them. They found Captain Fargold and his Chief Officer Thingal waiting.  
  
'Where's Elessar?' Pippin asked quietly.  
  
'He had to attend to a matter of business,' Captain Fargold said. 'It's all right, I have all the necessary paperwork here. King Elessar, King Eomer, and Prince Faramir have authorised us to seal the bargain.' He fumbled at his belt. 'As I said, I have all the papers here.'  
  
He paged through the papers, laying each one down upon the table, explaining the notations and tallies that showed what the great ships had carried in their cargo holds from Ithilien and Gondor to the Shire. 'Breeland, of course, is a separate accounting,' he said.  
  
'Of course,' Pippin nodded.  
  
'The Shire would not be expected to pay for the food received by Breelanders, of course.'  
  
'No, I'm sure they have made their own arrangement with the King,' Pippin said. The Captain exchanged glances with his officer. Of course. They had received the shipment of food as grateful subjects who'd thrown themselves on the mercy of the King in their time of trouble.  
  
'Ah, here we are,' Fargold said, coming to the last page. 'Here is the final tally, the reckoning of the amount due.' He blinked at the page, to all appearances bewildered by what he read. 'What is this...?' he said. He shoved the paper over to his officer, who picked it up and looked closely, then handed it back.  
  
'I'm sorry,' Captain Fargold said, 'My eyes are not what they used to be. I can still spy what I wish to see across the waves, but I cannot read the name of the agent at the bottom of the page... apparently the bill has already been settled.'  
  
'Settled!' said the startled hobbits together.  
  
'Yes, see for yourself,' the Captain said, pushing the paper across the table. Pippin took it up, scanning down the page to the bottom, where a bold hand had noted: "Paid in Full. Agent: Frodo Baggins, service rendered." His hand began to shake, and he laid the page down, where it was taken up by Merry, Samwise reading over his shoulder.  
  
Pippin could tell when Sam reached the bottom of the page, for he suddenly took a deep breath. Merry heard a strangled sob behind him and looked back. Samwise stood with his head down, trembling, one hand across his eyes.  
  
"Oh Sam," Merry murmured. He wrapped comforting arms around him, and the Mayor of the Shire stood stiffly in his embrace, then slumped and began to weep helplessly. Merry stood for a long moment, holding the sobbing Mayor, until Sam regained control of himself, while the Captain and his officer averted their eyes, busying themselves with the papers upon the table. Finally Sam was quiet, and a moment later, he straightened, groping in his pocket for a handkerchief, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose, then nodding, squaring his shoulders, again the Mayor; grieving gardener carefully put away again.  
  
Merry put his hand upon Pippin's shoulder. He said softly, 'Frodo told me he'd already paid... but I thought it was only a dream.'  
  
Pippin turned to him. 'It was a dream, Merry. Don't be daft. The food must be paid for.'  
  
'Frodo paid,' Sam said softly.  
  
'What was that?' Pippin asked.  
  
From behind them, Arwen spoke. 'Debts must be settled, Peregrin Took,' They had not even heard her enter the pavilion. 'Do you not see?' She came forward to place a hand on one shoulder each of Master and Thain, her gaze encompassing Mayor as well, peering down into their faces with a stern look.  
  
'Yes,' Pippin whispered, putting his hand upon Frodo's name on the page, as sudden tears flooded his own eyes. 'Yes, debts must be paid.' 


	88. Wolf Trap

**Author's Notes:** I have become ever-fonder of Ferdibrand Took as I have come to know him better... as a matter of fact, he has his own story developing now, here on ff.net, called "Flames."  
  
_Jo, _glad to see you here. Everybody, I want you to meet Jo, whose comments helped to shape the stories you see here. She deserves full credit for Sam's reaction in chapter 87... She has a sure grip on Samwise and Rosie's characterisations (see her story "Sam's Rose"), and is very generous with her advice. Thanks again, Jo!  
  
_Bant_, thanks for the encouragement. Glad to see my hobbit-elf is not too far "off the mark" for elf fans.  
  
_Xena,_ faithful reviewer, thanks! I love the way you give your reactions, and hit the highlights in your reviews. This is very helpful, and encouraging, as I shape future chapters (and other stories, like "Flames", which is coming along nicely now that it is outlined...)  
  
_Hai,_ yes, it would be so nice to bring Frodo back on a visit... but it won't happen in "Rope", I'm afraid, for I'm trying as well as I can, what with projecting so far into the future, to stick strictly to canon. Estella's age doesn't even matter anymore, as it did in "Jewels", where it was a plot point. (In case anyone is wondering, "Jewels" was supposed to be strictly according to canon, but I made a math error in calculating Estella's age and do not want to do all the rewriting necessary to change it, at least, not at the moment. I love "Jewels" anyhow, it was my first introduction to Regi and Ev'ard, and where I really came to know Merry and Pippin as well as I do.)  
  
_Lizmybit,_ I'm glad you have apparently forgiven me. (Words to strike fear into any review-addicted heart: "I am not sure that I can read much more of your story...") (smile)  
  
_FantasyFan,_ You're welcome. With that portrait of Frodo hanging on the parlour wall, each time I take tea with Merry I am reminded of him. (The portrait was originally painted in "Jewels", by the way; it does not come out of nowhere, mere set-dressing? Certainly not!)  
  
_Sunhawk_, Welcome! How did the final go? Sorry to have been an impediment to studying. Sounds as if our tastes run along similar lines, as far as humour/angst/h/c goes... Now that your final's over, pour yourself another cup of tea and sit back. O, and anytime you don't have an exam looming, check out "Jewels". You'll only need half the time to read it as it took to read "Rope". (If it sounds like I'm plugging "Jewels" today, well... maybe I am. I love that story.)  
  
_Dana,_ You make writing so much... easier somehow, with your encouragement. Hey everybody, you really need to check out Dana's new stories as well. One is called "Sea Change", and there's a Boromir ficlet, and... my brain just died. You're just going to have to go look for yourself.  
  
_Pansy_, Perhaps. Yes, perhaps more ruffians in the Shire. Just possibly. I'm glad you like the way I think. Most of the time I like the way I think, too. When the angst gets too thick, I just look at the outline for the joy waiting at the end. I cannot write a sad ending, it is just not in me. Lots of sad middle, perhaps, but there's always the ending to look forward to.  
  
But enough about me... on to the story...  
  
***  
  
**Chapter 88. Wolf Trap**  
  
A very drunken hobbit called for another mug, and Barliman Butterbur brought the beer to the table himself. 'This is the last for you, little Sir,' he said. 'I'm afraid you've about reached your limit.'  
  
The hobbit blinked up at him. 'Nonsense,' he snapped, then grinned. 'The night is still young, why, 'tis not even middle night, yet! I don't have to start back for Buckland until the dawn light!'  
  
'Ye'r from the Shire, then,' a Big Man said, sitting down beside him. He picked up the coin the hobbit had dropped on the table, pressing it back into the unsteady hand, and said, 'This one's on me, Barliman. And keep the drinks coming. I won't let him fall on his head.'  
  
'Very well, Ban, but I do not think you're doing him a favour.'  
  
'He's not here alone, is he?'  
  
'No, he's here with the Master of Buckland and his party.'  
  
'Well, they'll make sure he gets home all right on the morrow,' Ban said easily. 'Let him have some fun, now. He probably doesn't get to enjoy the brew at the Pony very often.'  
  
'Not just the Shire,' the hobbit bleared, in answer to the Man's earlier statement. 'Buckland!'  
  
'Buckland, is it? Something pretty special about Buckland?'  
  
'You don't know Buckland?' the hobbit said, blinking. 'No, of course you don't, King's edict and all.'  
  
'Tell me about it,' Ban said encouragingly, sipping at his own mug.  
  
Two rounds later, the two were laughing uproariously, but then the hobbit sobered. 'That King...' he said darkly. He shook his head. 'Greedy son of a Took.'  
  
'Son of a what?' Ban said.  
  
'Well, not really, the Tooks are decent folk compared to that greedy King,' the hobbit muttered. 'D'you know, he said two wagons of gold wasn't enough? He wants another!'  
  
'Really?' Ban said, a gleam in his eye.  
  
'Yesh,' the hobbit slurred. 'Another whole wagon of gold... as if it weren't trouble enough to... trouble to get two wagons from Tookland to the ships without... without trouble.'  
  
'With a heavy guard they should have no trouble,' Ban said.  
  
'That'sh what the Master said, but the Thain...' Merimas Brandybuck looked at the Man through one eye, decided to try the other to see if it might be working better. He dropped his voice to a loud whisper. 'The Thain, he'sh a tricksy sort.'  
  
'Is he now?' Ban said encouragingly.   
  
The drunken hobbit looked around surreptitiously, to make sure they were not being overheard. 'He ish,' he said conspiratorially. 'One wagon, one hobbit driving, no escort to tip ruffians to the fact that it'sh the gold, you see? Guardsmen riding a little ahead, but not in sight, just as if it were any ol' patrol, y'know, guardsmen riding a ways behind, to catch up quickly if there'sh trouble...'  
  
'But not in sight,' Ban said softly. 'They'd have to be some ways back for that,' he added.  
  
'Yesh, but if the driver blowsh his horn they'll come at a gallop,' the hobbit said wisely. He winked at the Man with difficulty. 'Don't tell a soul,' he said.  
  
'Mum's the word,' Ban said back to him with a wink of his own. He signalled to Barliman for another round, and soon afterwards left the hobbit, head resting on the table, snoring comfortably.  
  
***  
  
The leader of the ruffians fixed the others with a bright eye. 'Nothing will go wrong this time!' he said. 'They'll have guardsmen riding before and after, but not in sight. They'll be waiting for the call of a horn to come riding to the rescue, and of course, they'll never hear one, because we'll have the driver before he can blow an alarm. We'll take the wagon and the gold into the woods before they know what's happened.' He would see to things personally, this time. He still did not know exactly what had gone wrong with the attack on the first two wagons of gold, but he'd make sure they'd take the third wagon, and make the little rat of a driver pay dearly for the loss of four good Men.  
  
'So when is this to take place?' another ruffian asked.  
  
'Soon, it sounded like. The ships are ready to sail. It must be happening in the next day or two.'  
  
'How will we know which wagon? We cannot waylay every wagon that travels that road!' someone protested.  
  
Ban sighed, trying to hold onto his patience. Did none of these have a brain save himself? 'Not _every_ wagon,' he said. 'We just lie in wait until we see a group of guardsmen ride by, followed by a wagon. _That's_ the one with the prize. Then we come out of the woods, pretending to be guardsmen scouting, kill the driver before he can sound the alarm, and disappear into the woods again with the gold.'  
  
He looked around. 'Any questions?' No one spoke. 'All right, then,' he said. 'Get into your fancy togs, polish your boots so that you look like proper King's Men, and let us ride grimly into the Shire and join the search for ruffians.'  
  
***  
  
The plan went much as Ban had expected. They waited in the woods beside the road, watching, patient now, despite the icy cold. Gold would buy a lot of warmth.  
  
A party of guardsmen rode by, and they stiffened, but no wagon followed and they relaxed again. Another group of guardsmen accompanied several wagons of hobbits going towards Tuckborough, no cause for celebration, the gold would be travelling from Tuckborough, not towards.  
  
Mid-morning, another group of guardsmen passed, and the ruffians watched them go by with jaded eyes, tired of waiting, only to stiffen as a slow wagon, drawn by a six-pony team, plodded into sight, lone hobbit driving. Ban motioned his men to mount up, and soon they rode out of the woods and up to the driver.  
  
'What are you doing here?' the hobbit demanded, hand on the horn at his side. He was a fat little thing, Ban saw, well muffled in a cloak, but plump for all that; and he'd thought they'd had a famine here in the Shire. This little fellow had eaten well enough, but of course, he had the gold to do so. Not much longer, to be sure.  
  
'We were scouting in the woods, making sure there were no ruffians lurking to trouble you,' Ban said easily, swinging down from his horse. The hobbit relaxed, nodded. 'Have you seen anything suspicious?'  
  
'No,' the hobbit started to say, when Ban suddenly pulled his sword and seized him, ready to cut his throat while his men jumped down to grab the ponies... but for the startling sight of the tarpaulins being thrown back to reveal a wagonload of lurking guardsmen, true Kingsmen, weapons drawn.  
  
Two of his men who were still astride kicked their horses into flight, only to be cut down by arrows that flashed from the woods behind the wagon, for the archers had caught up quickly once the wagon halted.  
  
Two others on the ground were also struck down, one as he foolishly tried to run at the archers with his sword out, the other as he tried to run away.  
  
Ban held the hobbit by one arm, blade to his captive's throat. 'Put down your weapons!' he shouted, 'or watch him bleed!'  
  
'Shoot! Shoot!' Ferdibrand Took cried frantically, as the blade pressed harder. The archers stood, arrows nocked, bowstrings taut, ready, but still hesitating. Ferdi felt a momentary annoyance; they had never failed him before.  
  
'Stop yer squeaks, you little rat!' the false guardsman growled, 'or I'll take your head off completely!'  
  
'Be my guest,' Ferdi said through gritted teeth, trying not to move his jaw against the pressing blade. 'They'll not need to hold their shot, then.' He felt the blade move, exerting slightly less pressure; something trickled down his throat, whether blood or sweat he did not know.  
  
The ruffian, crouching behind the hobbit, backed slowly away from the guardsmen in the wagon, pulling Ferdi with him by the hold on his arm and the blade beneath his chin. 'Don't move,' he warned them. 'I can cut off an ear of his, or some other piece, and still have him for a shield.' He glared down into Ferdi's face. 'Would you like me to start by putting out your eyes?' he snarled. Ferdi made no answer, meeting the Man's gaze steadily, with infuriating calm. The Man cursed, and then the hobbit gasped as the ruffian jerked at his arm, twisting it cruelly.  
  
'Stay back, or I'll pull the wings right off this fly,' he said, sneering at the watchers.  
  
'What do you want?' Bergil said quietly from the wagon.  
  
'A horse, and safe passage, and maybe I'll drop this rat in one piece on the trail when I'm well away,' the ruffian hissed. He jerked at the arm again, and Ferdi cried out involuntarily. 'How about it? This wing seems to be coming loose...'  
  
'Ban, take me with you,' a wounded ruffian said. The rest were dead.  
  
'You'll only slow me down,' Ferdi's captor retorted.  
  
In the shadow of the trees behind them, Regi reached Tolibold, the Tooks' finest archer. 'Shoot him!' he whispered.  
  
'The arrow will go through him into Ferdi,' Tolly protested, not taking his eyes from the ruffian, fingers caressing the arrow they cradled.  
  
'Ferdi's got the mithril coat on, and padding underneath it,' Regi reminded him. 'If you shot direct at him, I doubt the coat would stop the arrow, whatever the dwarf says, but if it passes through the ruffian first...'  
  
At another cry from Ferdibrand, Tolly nodded, set his chin, squeezed his eyes, ('Right through the heart,' Regi muttered) took a deep breath and let it out, and released the arrow.  
  
The ruffian staggered, loosing the hobbit, who fell face first onto the road, then struggled to crawl away with one arm useless.  
  
The guardsmen erupted from the wagon, weapons at the ready, but the ruffian had already fallen to his knees, sword hanging loosely, and before any reached him he fell the rest of the way, to lie dead upon the road.  
  
Regi reached Ferdi, who gasped a warning. 'Don't touch my arm!'  
  
'Easy, Ferdi,' he said, helping the other into a sitting position. 'Looks as if he pulled it from the socket.'  
  
'You don't need to tell me,' Ferdi gritted.   
  
One of the hobbit archers picked up the horn from where it had fallen and blew a long blast to summon the guardsmen riding ahead of the wagon. The guardsmen following behind kicked their mounts into a gallop and soon arrived at the scene.  
  
Regi pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and absently dabbed at the blood trickling down Ferdi's neck. 'We've got to put it back in, you know,' he murmured. 'The sooner, the better.' He looked up. 'Bergil!' he cracked. 'We could use a Man about now.' Bergil's strength might replace the arm more quickly and easily than a hobbit's.  
  
As Regi murmured encouragement to Ferdi, another guardsman provided a counter-pull while Bergil restored the arm to its proper place. Ferdi, face white, sweating profusely despite the frigid temperature, gave a gasp and fainted. They quickly formed a makeshift sling and bound the arm securely to his side.  
  
'There,' Bergil said. 'I think that's done it. We'd better get him to the King.' He turned to check the progress of his men; the bodies of the false guardsmen had been loaded onto the wagon, the wounds of the one survivor had been bound up and he was now sitting in the wagon under guard. The hobbits had un-nocked their arrows, though they had not unstrung their bows and looked ready for further trouble. 'Head back to the inn!' he called, and picking up Ferdi, led the march.  
  
Back at the inn, the King carefully removed the bindings, the cloak, the shirt, the mithril mail, and the heavy padding beneath, there to cushion any swordblow against the shirt, they'd hoped. It had done its job in absorbing the impact of the arrow that passed through the ruffian; Ferdi had not even a bruise, only a torn place in his cloak where the arrow had protruded from the ruffian's chest.  
  
The King immobilised the arm, warning him that it would take some time for the damage to heal, and that he might not enjoy full use of it even then, but he took the news philosophically. 'I'm better off than I might be, had those ruffians had their way,' he said. He gave a wry grin in place of his usual shrug.  
  
The King did not tell what methods his guardsmen employed to gain information from the surviving ruffian, and the hobbits did not ask. They accepted the news that these were the last of an organised band, of whom the one called "Ban" had been the leader. There were no more missing guardsmen's uniforms to be accounted for. It seemed the emergency was over.


	89. Back in Time for Tea

Chapter 89. Back in Time for Tea  
  
Pippin, Samwise, and Rose sat in the parlour with the Master and Mistress of Buckland, sipping unenthusiastically at their tea. Only the presence of the ladies kept the Travellers sitting quietly. In their minds, of course, they were following a wagon from the Crowing Cockerel towards Stock, driven by a mithril-shirted hobbit, with a cargo of hidden guardsmen and a covert escort of Tookish archers.  
  
Pippin became aware that Sam was staring at him. 'You're letting your tea go cold,' he said, but Sam did not seem to hear him. 'What?' Pippin asked. 'Do I have crumbs upon my chin?' He picked up his napkin and assiduously wiped at his face. This broke the seeming spell, and Sam shook his head and sipped again.  
  
Rose spoke softly from his side. 'It's the two of you,' she said. 'I wonder what Frodo would say?'  
  
Merry looked to the portrait behind his cousin and said, 'I never noticed that before... Pip, has anyone told you how much you resemble Frodo?'  
  
Pippin sipped at his tea, raising one eyebrow. 'O really?' he said. He put down his cup and scratched thoughtfully at his neck, finally shaking his head. 'No,' he said slowly, 'I cannot recall that it's come up before.'  
  
Rose choked on her tea, apologising after the coughing fit was over.  
  
Estella eyed him. 'It would make an interesting portrait,' she said thoughtfully, 'you and cousin Frodo.'  
  
'Yes,' Pippin agreed. 'Why don't you see if you can get him to visit from Elvenhome and we can sit for you?'  
  
'You'd never sit still long enough for me to take your likeness, in any event,' Estella said.  
  
'Then let him sit twice as long and paint him twice over,' Pippin retorted, becoming annoyed, 'since we resemble each other so well.' He had been amused at first, but the joke was beginning to wear thin.  
  
Samwise broke in, 'I wish he could come back, even if it were just for a visit.' His eyes were very sad, and Rose silently squeezed his hand.  
  
'Whatever would he say, seeing us?' Pippin said, in tacit apology to Sam, who must feel Frodo's absence most keenly of them all.  
  
'Mayor, Master, and Thain,' Sam said. 'He knew, somehow, where we'd be...' He looked at Rose. 'I told you how he named the ones to come after Elanor. I wonder if he was allowed a glance into the future, into what he would not be here to see, as a comfort to him.'  
  
Merry and Pippin murmured agreement, and went back to sipping their tea, and waiting.  
  
***  
  
'The Thain is in Buckland,' Elessar said patiently, clinching his argument. Pointing out that Buckland was closer than Tuckborough had not been successful; Ferdi still insisted that his place, now that the ruffians had been dispatched, was at the Great Smials, guarding the Thain's family. 'He is not yet well enough to ride, and he will insist on seeing you when he hears a full report.'  
  
'Very well,' Ferdi said curtly. 'For the sake of the Thain, I will agree to be carried to Buckland.' He shifted, uncomfortable, despite the pain- reducing draught the King had forced upon him. 'But I really should be returning to Tuckborough, to see to the safety of the Thain's family.'  
  
'The guardsmen I sent there ought to be adequate until you and your archers return,' the King said gravely. 'I know they are not so experienced in protecting your Thain as you are, but they have performed to my satisfaction in protecting the royal family of Gondor.'  
  
'Very well,' Ferdi repeated with a jerk of his chin. 'When do we leave?'  
  
'Carrying you in a litter should not jostle your shoulder overmuch,' Regi said, 'not like riding in a wagon or on a pony. We could leave immediately. I'm sure the Thain is eager to hear our report.'  
  
'Immediately?' the King repeated.  
  
'Yes, the Goose is losing business with the lot of us here,' Regi said. 'With such a crowd of great oafs in black and silver loitering about, you won't find many Tooks coming in for a mug.'  
  
'Or other hobbits, for what it's worth,' Tolly said. 'I must say, cousin, I'm curious, now that we're this close to Buckland. Is the Brandywine really as wide as they say? Wider than the Water?'  
  
'It would have to be wider than the Water,' Ferdi snapped. 'How else would they get all those great ships up the River?'  
  
'It is wider,' Regi said quietly. 'You'll see for yourselves soon enough.' He looked to the King. 'We are ready to march at your command.' The other Tooks bristled at his deference to the King, but he turned a quelling eye on them. Even when the Thain told one of his stories, or called the King "Strider", there was always an undercurrent of respect in his tone, and the steward's loyalty to the Thain meant that he would follow Pippin's example.  
  
Even with the litter, the journey was uncomfortable for Ferdi, though he never complained. When they got to Stock, Elessar was in for another argument. The archers were adamant about not taking the Ferry.  
  
'It will add another twenty miles to the journey,' the King said.  
  
'No boats!' Tolly repeated, echoed by the others.  
  
Elessar turned to Reginard. 'At least let us carry Ferdibrand over the River on the Ferry,' he said. 'I want to see him in a bed, and an end to this jostling, the sooner the better.'  
  
Regi bent to address Ferdi. 'I can order you, you know,' he said quietly.  
  
Ferdi's lips were white and thin with pain. 'You can order me to fly over the River, if you like,' he said, 'but I doubt that I will sprout wings.'  
  
'Do you feel up to getting out and walking the extra miles?' Regi asked.  
  
Ferdi gave a jerk of his chin. 'If I have to.'  
  
'What if I ride the Ferry with you?' Regi persisted.  
  
The other shot him a look of shock and disbelief. 'You?' he demanded.  
  
Regi took a deep breath, then nodded. 'Aye,' he said. He tried not to imagine he could hear the River rushing by, though it was perhaps a mile from where they stood, hungry waters grasping at the shore, reaching for any unwary hobbit that might come too close... 'Aye,' he said again, and swallowed hard.  
  
Ferdi gazed searchingly into his face, then said, 'You don't have to do that, Reg. I'll let them take me. If I drown, then the King does, too, I imagine.'  
  
'I can swim,' Elessar said, 'and I would be happy to pull you to safety.' Ferdi glanced at him sharply, and saw the twinkle in his eye.  
  
It was decided that Elessar and Bergil would take Regi and Ferdi with them to the Ferry, the rest would ride or march to the Bridge, Tolly driving the wagon with the bodies of the renegades, including the one who had died of his wounds shortly after questioning. The Thain had decreed that their bodies should not foul the fair soil of the Shire, and the King agreed. They would be cast, instead, into a single grave in the Wilds, unmarked, unmourned.  
  
Bergil handed the injured hobbit up to the King, and Ferdi found that riding in the King's arms was in fact easier than the litter. The King asked questions about Tookland, which helped distract the hobbit from his pain.  
  
'And so, are you the Captain of the Thain's Guard?' Elessar asked.  
  
'No, I'm his Chancellor,' Ferdi said.  
  
'And what do you do, as Chancellor?' the King asked.  
  
'Whatever needs doing,' Ferdi answered. 'Write letters, keep records, run messages, fetch whatever's wanted, saddle ponies, arrange escort for the Thain, eat his meals for him when he's not hungry to spare him his wife's ire...' he cocked a mischievous eye at the King. '...but don't tell Diamond that, she's worse than a dozen ruffians.'  
  
'I won't,' the King promised. 'And lead out the Tooks' archers as needed, I take it?'  
  
'O aye, worthless lot that they are,' Ferdi grumbled. 'They had that ruffian dead to rights and they would not shoot the Man!'  
  
'I had heard he was using you for a shield at the time,' the King said mildly.  
  
'Do you have a point, or are you just speaking to hear yourself talk?' Ferdi demanded, then winced, putting his good hand to his bad shoulder. King or no, he was not one to suffer fools lightly. His archers should never have hesitated, no matter who was involved. Well, had it been the Thain, maybe... but Pippin would have been as furious as Ferdi at the near- escape of the ruffian.  
  
'Easy, now,' the King said. 'You don't want to jar that.'  
  
'You're telling me...' Ferdi grumbled. His eyes widened and he gasped, and the King looked up to see what had startled the hobbit. They were approaching the Ferry landing; all he saw was the broad expanse of shining River, great ships riding at anchor.  
  
'That's a river?' Ferdi whispered. 'Looks more like the Sea to me.' He stared at the Brandywine, and at the great ships, growing larger as they rode down to the landing. The sight made him feel... small, somehow... an uncomfortable feeling. He began to realise that perhaps there was a world out there, beyond Tookland. It had never seemed quite real to him before.  
  
When they boarded the Ferry, the King noted that the hobbit's good hand clutched his cloak with enough force to turn the knuckles white, and that Regi, standing beside Bergil, was sweating and scarcely breathing, but he did not comment, saying only to Bergil, 'It looks as if we might be in time for tea.'  
  
***  
  
Merimas Brandybuck stuck his head in at the parlour door. 'The King is on the Ferry, halfway across the River by now,' he said. 'There's a guardsman with him, and two of our people.'  
  
'Two?' the Thain demanded sharply.  
  
'He's carrying one, the other's on his own feet.'  
  
'Amazing that he got two Tooks on the Ferry at all,' Merry said. He got up and helped Pippin out of his chair.  
  
'Carrying one?' Pippin asked Merimas. 'I don't like the sound of that.'  
  
'We'll go and see for ourselves,' Merry said soothingly.  
  
Pippin gave him a sharp glance. 'Don't humour me, cousin,' he warned.  
  
'When have I ever humoured you?' Merry asked. Pippin only snorted, then put his hand to his chest. That had hurt.  
  
'Let that be a lesson to you,' Merry said. 'When you take a sword to the heart you've got to give yourself time to get over it.' Sam made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle, but his face was bland when Pippin glared at him.  
  
'Are Tooks always so bad tempered?' Merry asked Estella.  
  
The Mistress of Buckland smiled. 'Yes,' she nodded. 'It's what makes them so indomitable. They have never yet been conquered, by ruffians or by adversity.' She lowered her eyelids. 'I'm part Took myself, you know.'  
  
'I thought you'd been conquered by a Brandybuck,' Merry said.  
  
His wife looked at him archly. 'Quite the opposite, I assure you,' she said.  
  
Sam moved to Pippin's other side, and the Mayor and Master escorted the Thain out of Brandy Hall. As they reached the entrance, they saw the King walking up from the Ferry landing, carrying a muffled-up hobbit in his arms, Bergil following with Reginard.  
  
'Ferdi!' Pippin exclaimed, starting forward, forgetting his aches.  
  
'I'm all right, cousin,' Ferdi called, 'do not bestir yourself. I thought you were supposed to be in bed!'  
  
'Which is where I am taking you, Sir,' Elessar said firmly. 'You can give him your report once I have you comfortably settled, and preferably after you have another draught.'  
  
'I would rather not,' Ferdi said. He'd hated the fuzziness the previous draught had caused; if pain was the price to be paid for a clear head, he'd pay it. However, the Thain had another idea, walking with them to the room Merry designated for Ferdibrand, pulling back the covers on the bed so that the King could lay him down, ignoring his own hurts to make sure Ferdi was put comfortably to rest. He sat with Ferdi until the King returned with a covered cup.  
  
'I'm fine,' Ferdi insisted, settling back on his pillows with another wince.  
  
'Of course you are,' Pippin said. 'That's why your arm is in a sling and bound to your side. Drink the stuff down, and let us hear no more nonsense. Do I have to make it an order?'  
  
Ferdi complied with poor grace, shoving the cup back at the King without thanks.  
  
'You're most welcome,' Elessar said graciously, with a bow and a smile.  
  
Ferdi humphed. 'And you spent the better part of a year with this fellow?' he said to Pippin. 'However did you put up with all his managing ways?'  
  
'He is King, after all,' Pippin said diffidently, then straightening, he put on his official manner and said, 'Now how about that report?'  
  
The Thain, the Master, and the Mayor listened in silence as Regi and Ferdi took turns telling of the long drive from the Crowing Cockerel, starting at dawn, watching the shadows as the miles crawled by, growing weary as the hours passed, thinking, after passing the last inn before the Ferry landing, that the plan had failed and their quarry had not taken the bait.  
  
Then, just past the Blue Goose, the trap was sprung, the false guardsmen appeared. They knew for certain that these were the ruffians, for the King had ordered the movements of all his guardsmen that day, and these appeared where none were supposed to be.  
  
'However did you let him get hold of you, Ferdi?' Pippin demanded. 'You knew him to be no true guardsman.'  
  
'They were spread out,' Ferdibrand said coolly. 'I had to let him come closer, so that they would all come closer, and none would escape into the trees.' He shook his head. 'If only the archers had shot on command, things would have gone much more smoothly.'  
  
The Thain was nodding. 'Yes, that was a serious failing on their part,' he said. Elessar looked at him in astonishment, but then Pippin reached out a hand, resting it on Ferdibrand's good arm. 'Still,' he said, 'I'm glad that you didn't end up full of Tookish arrows. I hardly know how I could spare you, cousin.'  
  
Ferdi looked away, then nodded. 'I... thank you, cousin,' he said softly.  
  
'All in all, it was a good day's work,' Regi broke in, to give Ferdi time to straighten his countenance. 'This group of ruffians is done for. Let's hope the bright idea of posing as guardsmen died with them.'  
  
'We will keep a more careful accounting of messages and messengers in future,' the King said grimly. 'This time we will be aware of a problem at first sign of trouble.' The draught was beginning to take effect; he noticed Ferdibrand sagging against his pillows, trying valiantly to keep his eyes open.  
  
'I think this is a good place to stop,' he said, rising from his sitting position on the floor. He fixed the Mayor with a sharp glance. 'And are you not supposed to be taking a nap?'  
  
'Ah, yes,' Samwise said. 'How could I forget? My life is not complete without a nap after tea, you know.'  
  
'I'd heard,' Pippin answered. 'Actually, they've been trying to convince me of the same thing.'  
  
Elessar said, 'Merry, you take care that Pippin goes to his rest, I'll see to Sam.'  
  
'Your wish is my command,' Merry grinned. 'Come on, Pip.'  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'I wish you would not take so much pleasure in your work, Merry,' he said. 'It's rubbing salt in the wound for you to be so... cheerful! ...in carrying out your orders.'  
  
'I am simply returning the compliment, dear cousin,' Merry said. 'Think of all those days you saw to it that I was on speaking terms with my bed.'  
  
'My bed and I get along fine without any help from you...' Pippin was heard to grumble as he and Merry left the room.  
  
'I'll watch with him,' Regi said in answer to the King's lifted eyebrow. He pulled the covers up under Ferdibrand's chin and settled himself in the chair next to the bed. 'It'll be nice and peaceful, probably the most quiet I've had in days. Wonderful thing, those draughts of yours...'  
  
Sam laughed. 'Come on, Strider, let's let him have that peace and quiet before the draught wears off.' Together, the King and the Mayor left the room. Regi got up to throw another log on the fire in the bedroom hearth, then settled back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. It had been a productive day. 


	90. Remembering Love

For those who wondered how Frodo paid... well, he paid with his life, you know. He gave up all he had and all he loved and went on a hopeless journey to destroy the Ring, something that none of the Great could do. So you might say that he pre-paid. All of Middle-earth owed him a great debt, and they owed Master, Thain, and Mayor as well, but as the hobbits wouldn't accept any payment right after the War, well, the interest on that debt just kept on mounting until at last Men figured out how to pay at least an installment of the debt... does that clear things up a bit?  
  
***  
  
Chapter 90. Remembering Love  
  
Samwise stopped in the doorway to the parlour. Another hobbit was there before him, standing before the portrait of Frodo. After a time, he moved forward, clearing his throat softly to let the other know of his presence.  
  
'What are you doing out of bed?' he said as he reached Pippin.  
  
The Thain did not turn from the portrait, simply said, 'I could ask the same of you.'  
  
'You know what Frodo would have done,' Sam said, a smile in his voice.  
  
Pippin sighed and shook his head. 'No, Sam,' he said quietly. 'I don't.' He locked gazes with the painted face. 'I'm forgetting him... his smile, his voice. He is fading into a mist of memory. I know who he was, what he did, but Frodo himself... is gone from me. However could I have let him slip away?'  
  
'Do you remember the love?' Sam asked. Pippin did not answer. Sam put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
'I remember weeding in the garden at Bag End, of a summer's day,' he began reflectively. 'Hearing giggles and peals of laughter. "You come back here and get washed up now!" Mr Frodo was yelling, but there was no anger in his voice. And you, Pippin, shouting back, "But I'm not dirty enough yet!" He smiled in recollection. 'Do you know what happened next?'  
  
Pippin shook his head.  
  
Sam went on, 'Mr Frodo, he caught hold of you, scooped you up, carried you struggling and yelling over to last year's compost pile, all nicely cooked down to rich dirt and earthworms, and proceeded to give you a dirt bath!'  
  
'A dirt bath!' Pippin said softly.  
  
'From head to toe. I thought he had lost his senses, but the two of you were laughing fit to waken the old owl from his daytime rest. And when he'd smeared you head to toe with dirt, he asked, "Now are you dirty enough?" and you were having so much fun, you shouted, "No!" and so he went at it again.'  
  
Pippin was silent, but Sam ploughed ahead. 'Well, Mr Bilbo, he called out the window, "Frodo? Have you got that rapscallion washed up yet? Tea's going cold!" and the two of you popped up from the dirt, and he looked as bad as you did, if not worse. And do you know what Mr Frodo said?'  
  
Pippin's head shook slightly.  
  
'He said, "Be there in a moment, Bilbo! Pip and I were just getting washed up!" ' Sam shook with laughter at the memory, and from the corner of his eye he saw a smile crack the Thain's countenance.  
  
'I remember another time...' he said. 'O how your cousin loved you, Pippin, and how you loved him. I remember a time you lost yourself, and we were all off looking for you, and Mr Frodo was the one to find you. I never did hear all that story; all he said was, "He's had a bad fright, Samwise. Go tell all the others he's found, and safe, but not to bother us for a bit until I get him calmed down." And he was carrying you wrapped up in his cloak, and all I could see was the curls atop your head to know that you were in the bundle he held. But there weren't no gainsaying him, he just repeated himself. "Go tell them he's safe," he said, and he nearly got stern with me, can you imagine it? Mr Frodo, stern.' He shook his head.  
  
Pippin remembered Frodo, stern, standing up to the ruffians.  
  
'I went off like he said, and when I came back, he was in the hammock, holding you atop his chest, still wrapped up in his cloak, and the two of you were fast asleep. Mr Bilbo said to let you sleep until teatime, that you'd waken Frodo for sure when your belly awakened, and that is indeed what happened. Though I never did hear what you got yourself into. I s'posed it was so bad that the Thain--well, your da wasn't the Thain, yet, but he was stern enough to be--might never let you visit Hobbiton again should he find out.'  
  
Pippin nodded, remembering that fearful day. 'He would have said my cousins could not keep watch over me, and that I was safest at home.'  
  
'And I recollect the time that Bilbo had set aside the last piece of seedcake, and someone took it, and he was thundering and threatening a beating for the culprit. And Mr Frodo stepped up to say he was the one, and he'd have his beating right away, thank you, for he'd promised to take you fishing. You should have seen Mr Bilbo's face! "You expect me to lay you over my lap and give you a whack?" he said. "A great tween like you?" And then he laughed, and said, "Be off with you! And don't come back until you've caught enough fish for supper!"  
  
'But Frodo did take the seedcake,' Pippin murmured.  
  
'He did?' Sam said.  
  
'He took it for me,' Pippin said. 'He didn't know Bilbo was keeping it back for his own, and he knew I liked seedcake, so he wrapped it up in a handkerchief and gave it to me when we were fishing.'  
  
'He had it in his pocket the whole time Bilbo was threatening and blustering?' Sam said, thunderstruck.  
  
'Well, he figured Bilbo wouldn't want it after it had been crumbled up in his pocket,' Pippin said reasonably. 'And he knew I would not mind. And I didn't.'  
  
'You're remembering,' Sam said quietly.  
  
'Yes...' Pippin answered. 'He's not so dim as he was.' He looked again at the portrait.  
  
'There's no shame when people see him in your face, you know,' Sam said. 'The two of you being cousins, some family resemblance should not be a surprise.'  
  
'Shame?' Pippin said, then dropped his head. 'O Sam...' He was silent for several breaths. 'I could never do what he did. Never in all the world. 'Tis a good thing there are no more Rings in Middle-earth.'  
  
'You don't have to do what he did,' Sam said. 'We've each been given our own row to hoe, you know. If we start looking at the weeds in the other fellow's row, we're likely to miss our own weeds, or start chopping out the good plants.' He looked at the other in silence, then added, 'I'd say you've been doing a fair job with the row you've been given.'  
  
A smile lifted one corner of Pippin's mouth. 'Thanks,' he said quietly. 'Coming from you that's high praise.'  
  
Sam patted the shoulder beneath his hand. 'Anytime you have trouble remembering Frodo, you just come down to Bag End. I'll be happy to help you out.' Pippin nodded, and Sam gave the shoulder a squeeze. 'Now off to bed with you now, before one of the "grown-ups" comes along and notices you're missing...' Pippin chuckled, and the two of them slowly walked from the parlour. 


	91. Naming Names

Chapter 91. Naming Names  
  
The great ships departed while hobbits lined both banks of the Brandywine River, all the way from Brandy Hall down to Haysend in Buckland and from Stock to the Overbourne Marshes of Southfarthing. Despite the icy weather, the hobbits waved bright cloths and cheered and sang songs to the sailors, standing until the last of the white sails was out of sight, heading down- River towards the Sea and home to Gondor.  
  
'Come back to my pavilion,' the King said. 'I would like to consult with my Counsellors.'  
  
Merry said, 'Just let me see Estella settled, and I will join you.' He took her arm, said, 'I wish you had stayed in the Hall,' and urged her to walk with him.  
  
'And miss saying good-bye, and thank you?' she said. 'When most of those poor sailors could not even set foot on shore? Think of the time they sacrificed to bring us our food!'  
  
'They'll set foot ashore when they get to Sarn,' Merry answered. 'And have plenty of pay to spend there, I don't wonder, from what Captain Fargold said.' Better to have drunken sailors carousing about Sarn, he added to himself, rather than amongst people half their size.  
  
Estella stopped suddenly, putting a hand to her abdomen. Merry said in sudden fear, 'The babe?'  
  
Her face wore an expression of intense concentration, then relaxed, and she smiled at him. 'Not yet,' she answered. 'Not quite.' They resumed their progress towards the Hall, and he tucked her up in the parlour, feet on a stool, and gave orders that she was to be served her elevenses there.  
  
'May we join you?' Rose said from the doorway, Elanor smiling by her side. Merry breathed a sigh of relief, but said calmly enough, 'See, Estella? You ladies can have your tea by the fire and knit and gossip to your hearts' content.'  
  
'Go on with you,' Estella said. 'I've never knitted a thing in my life and I'm not about to start.'  
  
'Gossip then,' Merry said with a mischievous smile, and ducked out of the room before she could find something to throw at him.  
  
Joining the Thain and Mayor, seated with King Elessar, King Eomer, and Prince Faramir, the Master of Buckland said, 'Well, Strider? What was it you wanted to see us about?'  
  
'The edict,' the King said. 'I am going to re-issue it this day, for the main body of the Shire. I will have guardsmen ride throughout the Shire with horns, to announce the news. They will ride all the roads of the Shire, meet at the far end where the Great East Road crosses the Bounds, and then ride back. After they cross Brandywine Bridge, any Man found in the Shire is subject to the penalty.'  
  
'Main body of the Shire?' Merry asked.  
  
'Yes,' the King said, meeting his gaze soberly. 'I would like to hold Buckland open a little longer,' he said.  
  
'Why?' came the Thain's sharp query.  
  
'If we may impose upon the Master of Buckland a little longer,' Elessar said quietly, 'we thought we would stay until the New Year.'  
  
The hobbits looked confused for a moment, until Mayor Samwise said, 'The Twenty-fifth of March, you mean?'  
  
'Yes, of course,' Elessar said. 'I will have extra guards about the Shire, watching the boundaries, and I hope that your Shirriffs will be watchful within, until we are sure that no remaining Men are lurking.'  
  
He settled back in his chair, lighting his pipe, and said, 'After the New Year, we'll be heading back South for a time, but I will return to Fornost in a year or two.'  
  
'The King of Rohan is staying, and the Prince of Ithilien as well?' the Thain asked.  
  
Eomer smiled. 'Yes, we will ride back to the South together. It will be a merry party. Perhaps you'd join us?'  
  
'For a part of the journey, perhaps,' Pippin said. 'I cannot easily get away for very long, or go very far, or my people will think I've abandoned them.'  
  
'I imagine it was hard enough to get away for a month at the Lake,' Merry laughed. 'Did they try to proclaim Regi Thain?'  
  
'No,' Pippin said, 'but I'm sure some were thinking about it. Tooks are not known for their patience.'  
  
'So I've heard,' Elessar said dryly.  
  
'I wish I could join you,' Merry said wistfully, 'but the time is not right.'  
  
'Another time,' Eomer said, understandingly. 'Come when you can bring the whole family. The Rohirrim would delight to welcome a Knight of the Mark home again.'  
  
Faramir said, 'I can see that I will have to visit the King at Fornost on a regular basis, if I am to see the Ernil i Pheriannath, since he cannot come to Gondor.'  
  
Pippin bowed gravely. 'I'm sure the Ernil i Pheriannath would appreciate your consideration, and would probably be able to get away for a brief visit to Fornost or the Lake to meet you.'  
  
'Is this acceptable, Thain Peregrin, and Master Meriadoc?' Elessar asked formally. 'May we remain in Buckland until the end of March?'  
  
'Be my guest,' Merry said, 'and welcome.' Suddenly an excited voice was heard outside the pavilion, and a guardsman stuck his head in. 'Master Meriadoc,' he said, 'It seems you're wanted at the Hall.'  
  
Merry was on his feet at once. 'Estella?' he said, but his face did not wear the joyful look of a father expecting imminent birth, rather a look of dread.  
  
'Yes, Sir,' the guardsman said. Merry excused himself to the company, walking from the pavilion, but broke into a run as soon as he was outside.  
  
'She nearly died with their first,' Pippin said in explanation, 'and they have lost several babes as well.' He rose. 'I must be there, in case...' he rephrased the thought. 'I might be needed,' he said simply. If Estella were to die, the Dark would descend upon Merry and he might not have the will to fight it off.  
  
The King nodded in understanding. 'I have athelas,' he said. 'It can help chase away the Shadow, if need be.'  
  
'Thank you, Strider,' Pippin said. With a bow, he was gone.  
  
'A moment, Sam,' the King said, restraining the Mayor.  
  
'Yes?' Samwise said.  
  
'We have a little problem, it seems,' Elessar said. 'I have heard of a hobbit family that has... adopted one of my guardsmen. When the edict is put back into place, we will be splitting a family, keeping them apart. My guardsman will never again see his home, as things stand. How are we to deal with this situation?'  
  
***  
  
Legolas sat quietly with Pippin, watching the play of emotion over the other's face. Pippin and Merry had always been close, joined by a bond of kinship, and then shared experience, and the Thain's worry for his cousin was almost palpable.  
  
'Pippin,' the elf said softly, and the other looked up. 'You could take him to Gondor. He could become part of the King's retinue, travel to Fornost with him, or stay in Gondor when the King is in Gondor. The King will never let the Shadow take him, you know.'  
  
'I know,' Pippin said softly. 'but I cannot go to Gondor. I am trapped here in the Shire, unless I renounce the Thainship. I would do it, in a heartbeat, but for the fact that Regi would then be Thain. My son is too young.'  
  
'And Regi would make a poor Thain?' Legolas asked.  
  
Pippin shook his head. 'Regi would make an excellent Thain,' he answered slowly, 'but he would hate it. He would be like... like an elf, condemned to live in a city of stone.'  
  
'I do not understand,' Legolas said.  
  
'You are a King's son,' Pippin replied. 'Perhaps the thought of being Lord over your people is not frightening to you. Among hobbits it is a duty, not one to be taken lightly, not to be sought, not even to be cherished. My son is being brought up to take on the chore, and that helps, a bit. I would rather see him free to live his life, than bound in chains of responsibility, but it is his place by birth and by tradition, and isomeone's/i got to be Thain.'  
  
He sipped at his brandy. 'Regi is a servant by nature. He is happy to follow. To be Thain is to be thrust into the lead, and he would be worn down quickly by doubt and question. Am I doing what is best for the people? It would kill him before his time.'  
  
'Do you have that trouble?' Legolas asked.  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I have a sense of humour,' he replied. 'It is a great help.'  
  
'If you cannot take Merry to Gondor, then I will take him for you,' Legolas said.  
  
'You won't be needing to do anything of the sort,' Merry's voice spoke from the doorway. His face was bright with joy. 'She's a girl,' he said, 'just as Frodo said she would be.'  
  
'Estella?' Pippin asked.  
  
'She's fine,' Merry said. 'She says she's never been better.' He looked to Legolas. 'Would you like to see the babe?' he asked, knowing how the elves regarded children.  
  
'May I?' the elf said softly.  
  
Merry nodded. 'Estella told me to come fetch you,' he said. 'Otherwise you could not pry me from her side.'  
  
Pippin smiled. 'I'll go tell the world,' he said.  
  
'You do that,' Merry chuckled. 'Blow the Horn of Buckland, if you like.' He and Legolas disappeared through the door.  
  
Estella lay smiling against the pillows, holding a bundle in her arms. 'Ah, Legolas,' she said. 'I'm glad you have come to bless our new daughter.'  
  
'May I?' the elf whispered. She nodded, and he knelt by the bed, took the bundle carefully from her, folding back a flap of blanket to gaze into the tiny face. He sang a song in his own language, and the hobbits listened in wonder. The tiny eyes opened, to gaze fixedly into the fair face, and the elf whispered to her, then looked up. 'What is her name?'  
  
'We wanted to call her Star, or Ruby,' Merry said. 'We had not quite settled on one or the other.'  
  
'Míruiniël,' the elf murmured.  
  
'That's lovely,' Estella said.  
  
Legolas smiled. 'That is our name for a red jewel that shines with starry fire.'  
  
'Míruiniël,' Estella repeated. 'O, Merry, beloved...'  
  
'Of course,' Merry said, 'it is the perfect name. And since you are part Took, I hear,' he said to Legolas, 'it is only fitting that you should help us in the naming of her, cousin.'  
  
He smiled down at his daughter, cradled securely in elven arms. 'Welcome to the world, Míruiniël,' he said. 


	92. Fighting the Darkness

Note to Readers: As I will not have internet access for a few days (though chapters continue to be written, in "Rope"--not so many left, you know!-- and in "Flames"--quite a few left, for it looks as if "Flames" may run long, at the rate it's going), look for the next update on Thursday, 6/5, if the Lord allows.  
  
****  
  
Chapter 92. Fighting the Darkess  
  
'Will you not follow the way of the periain, my love?' Faramir asked Eowyn softly. Eowyn stared straight before her, then shook her head, finally meeting her husband's eyes.  
  
'I do not wish to frighten the children,' she said in an undertone.  
  
Young Boromir stepped forward to take his mother's hand. 'It was more frightening, when I was little, for you and my father to go away from us for two days every year, when I was used to spending every day in your company, especially when Father looked so...'  
  
'So... what?' Faramir asked.  
  
'For days beforehand, you kept beside Mother, you hardly let go of her hand, as if you were afraid to lose her,' Boromir said simply. 'It made me afraid of losing her as well, and then the two of you would disappear... and then two days later, all would be as if nothing had happened, until the next year.'  
  
'Wouldn't it be more frightening for the little ones to watch the Darkness take me?' Eowyn said softly.  
  
'No,' Boromir said urgently. 'We'd feel less helpless if you would let us help you fight. Now that I know what we are facing, I am not so afraid as I was.'  
  
Eowyn closed her eyes, and Faramir put a staying hand on their son's arm. They waited in silence until she straightened in her chair, opening her eyes. 'Very well,' she said. 'We will try the halfling's way of fighting the Shadow. But if any harm comes to the little ones...'  
  
'No harm will come to them, Mother,' Boromir said. 'I have already explained to them, what Father explained to me, and we are all in agreement.'  
  
'You have already explained to them?' Eowyn demanded.  
  
Boromir nodded. 'Of course. I was not sure you'd agree to try the halflings' way, and so we were all going to cajole you until you let us.'  
  
'Faramir, we are raising a brood of vipers,' Eowyn said.  
  
'Let us call them "warriors", rather,' the Prince of Ithilien smiled. 'It seems they are already learning strategy.'  
  
***  
  
The battle took place in the great room of Brandy Hall. Merry was apprehensive about the relative lack of privacy, but Merimas assured him that the rest of the Brandybucks understood, and would keep away so as not to distract the combatants.  
  
Samwise had reproached Merry for keeping his battle with Shadow private all these years. 'I knew that Mr Frodo fought against the Darkness,' he said. 'I tried to tell myself that he would conquer, but after he left, I had to admit I would have lost him anyhow, had he stayed. Had he not gone with the elves...' he shook his head. 'But why did you never tell me?' he asked.  
  
'I didn't want to distress you, Sam,' Merry said. 'You went through enough in the land of Shadow; I didn't want you to have to be reminded of it every year, in this way. It was bad enough that I had to fight it myself, and put my family through it.'  
  
Usually, Merry closeted himself in the Master's study with Estella, Berilac and Merimas, and their wives, from morning until evening of the Fifteenth of March, the anniversary of his encounter with the Witch King. There was always a bright fire on the hearth, blankets and warmed bricks wrapped in flannel, warm drinks, laughter, song and storytelling as they fought off the onset of Shadow, together.  
  
Usually, Faramir rode away with Eowyn on the Fourteenth of March, returning two days later. Where they went, no others in Ithilien knew, save perhaps some of the Fair Folk who might have seen them in a clearing in the wood, and recognising the battle for what it was, kept silent watch so that the twain would not be disturbed. Faramir kept a fire burning brightly, prepared warming drinks, and held Eowyn tightly, talking and singing to her, until the fit passed.  
  
This time, Merry's family and Eowyn's prepared to join the battle together. A great fire was laid in the massive fireplace, herbs were laid ready to be brewed into warming drinks, kettles and bricks began warming, blankets were wrapped around the twain who sat near the fireside, and candles lighted the room as if it were the Yuletide celebration.  
  
'Are we ready?' Merimas asked quietly. Elessar nodded. All that could be done, had been done. He fingered the bag of athelas that hung from his neck. They had fought Shadow for years without its help, and he would use it only if he saw the battle going against them.  
  
The first chills hit, and blankets were tucked around, with hot bricks for good measure.  
  
'It is almost like a party,' Merry said faintly. 'Such a crowd. Why have we kept this to ourselves all these years?'  
  
Eowyn smiled at him, and took his cold right hand in her warm left one. 'We fight together once more,' she said, then closed her eyes as a shudder passed over her. 'Hold on, Knight of the Mark. We will see this through, as we did once before.' She dropped his hand, and Faramir wrapped another blanket around her.  
  
'My lady,' Merry said.  
  
'Drink,' Estella urged, holding a cup to his lips. Merimas began a song, and the rest of the hobbits picked it up. It was a cheerful melody, with simple words of hope, and it did not take the Big Folk long to start to hum, and then to sing along on the chorus.  
  
Pippin started the next song, one he'd learned in Gondor, and the Big Folk joined immediately.  
  
Together, with warmth, song, laughter and love, they fought the Shadow through the day and into the night, and by dawn of the next day, the Shadow departed, having been unable once again to drag any victims down into its clutches.  
  
The combatants sang a last song of victory and joy, and all departed to their beds. King Elessar sighed as he relaxed. Arwen snuggled close to him and said, 'It is a unique way of fighting the Shadow, but I think the hobbits are wise.'  
  
Elessar nodded. 'They didn't even need any athelas,' he said. 'We could have gone back to Gondor on the ships after all.'  
  
'But we did not know,' Arwen said. 'And Meriadoc was, in fact, nearly lost to Shadow in October, even with all his family could do.'  
  
'Yes,' the King said soberly. 'It will be a battle he'll have to fight for the rest of his life. And Estella is his sword, and shield... should he lose her...'  
  
Arwen wrapped her arms about her husband. 'Then we will just have to insist that Peregrin bring him to Gondor, to be near the healing hands of the King,' she said. 'Besides,' she mused, 'there is a terrible dearth of hobbits in Gondor. I think we should see if we can somehow persuade them to visit more often.'  
  
'Do you think it possible?' Elessar murmured.  
  
'Well,' she considered. 'If not, then we shall have to come to Lake Evendim oftener, ourselves.'  
  
'I think I can arrange that,' the King said sleepily, and then began to snore. 


	93. Another Naming Day

Note to Readers: Here you go, the latest installment of "Rope". (If you notice similarities to another "Naming Day" chapter, just remember that this is a traditional ceremony with prescribed words and actions.) There are a few more chapters on the outline, and I anticipate posting a new chapter every other day until the story's end, if all goes well. Meanwhile, you can expect a new chapter daily over in "Flames", if you are following that story, for that one is already "written ahead" a ways. Sure makes it easier to update!   
  
***  
  
**93. Another Naming Day**  
  
Two days later, Merry met Samwise on his way to the great room for second breakfast. The Master wore a broad smile, and slapped the other on his back. 'What a beautiful spring day!' he grinned.  
  
'It's misting,' the Mayor answered.  
  
'Isn't it wonderful?' Merry said.  
  
The Mayor nodded with a grin of his own. 'Just perfect for growing things,' he said. 'Gentle enough to moisten the earth, not hard enough to wash away the topsoil.'  
  
Merry put a hand on Sam's arm. 'Thank you,' he said simply.  
  
'Whatever for?' the other said in surprise.  
  
'For being there... it must have been hard for you to have to deal with Shadow again.'  
  
Samwise shook his head. 'You don't know, Merry... I deal with Shadow every day, myself, just not the same way that you do.' He sighed. 'The memories will never go away. I just have to pluck them out like the weeds they are, not let them choke out all the beauty of the garden.' He brightened. 'And you know it is the Mayor's duty to open celebrations in the Shire.'  
  
'And you do it so well,' Merry laughed. 'Now that you have the knack of it, I hope you'll go on being Mayor for a good long time.'  
  
Samwise chuckled, and the two reached the great room, where many of the Brandybucks were already sitting, eating, and chatting. Not a lot of the Big Folk were there; they had not adapted the custom of six meals a day, though there was some sort of duty roster amongst them to ensure that the Thain did not miss a single meal. At the moment, Bergil was sharing second breakfast with Pippin and Legolas.  
  
'Don't get up,' Merry told Bergil. 'Hard enough to get up and down from the floor as it is.'  
  
Bergil grinned and bowed from his seated position. 'We saved you some breakfast,' he said.  
  
'And plenty more in the kitchen, Sir,' Nasturtium Brandybuck said, bustling up to them with a platter. 'Eat hearty, we've a busy day ahead of us!'  
  
'Yes, Auntie,' Merry said meekly, and the others laughed.  
  
'You have him well trained,' Bergil said.  
  
'Perhaps,' Nasturtium said thoughtfully. 'But I must tell you, it took a long time and a lot of work... ' She smiled. 'Nothing like my Merimas, I tell you, now there's a lad...' she bustled off, still singing the praises of her favourite nephew.  
  
'Miri's naming day,' Pippin said. 'I'm glad Diamond and the children were able to come for the occasion.'  
  
'Where is Diamond?' Merry asked.  
  
'I sent her back to bed. The babe was up much of the night,' Pippin explained. 'We've various Brandybucks taking turns walking the halls with little Joy this morning so that her mum might catch up on her sleep a bit.' His eyes twinkled. 'Besides, she did not need to sit with me to make sure I eat second breakfast; I believe it's Bergil's turn to do that.' He laughed at the others' expressions, and winked at Legolas.   
  
Bergil said, 'So what are you giving little Miri for her naming day, Pippin?' He ducked as all the hobbits shushed him vigorously.  
  
'You mustn't tell ahead of time,' Mayor Samwise said. 'It spoils the gift.'  
  
'Ah,' Bergil said. 'So what if two people give the same thing?'  
  
'It makes a double dose,' Merry said easily. 'And since all the gifts are good wishes, you can never have too many.'  
  
'She'll be the first hobbit to have Big Folk attend her naming day,' Pippin mused.  
  
'And probably the last, as well,' Bergil said. When the others looked at him curiously, he said, 'The King will put his edict back into effect on the last day of March, you know.' He sighed, and Sam patted his shoulder.  
  
'We can still meet at the Bridge, you know, lad,' he said.  
  
'Of course,' Bergil said, forcing himself to speak cheerfully. He did not want his own troubles to mar this special day for his friends.  
  
***  
  
The great room was full to bursting as Big Folk and hobbits and an elf and a dwarf gathered for the celebration of little Miri Brandybuck's birth.  
  
Merry entered, carrying little Miri, Estella by his side with little Sarry's hand in hers. They moved to stand by the great hearth, and as all eyes turned to him, the Master of Buckland raised his voice to speak the traditional words.  
  
'It has been a month and a day since this new hobbit graced the Shire with her presence,' he said, 'and we gather now to welcome her to the family and to write her name in the Book.' He shared a smile with Estella, then gave a nod to Legolas.  
  
There was a soft murmur of "welcome", and then Berilac came forward slowly, step by painful step, supported on either side by his faithful assistants. When he reached the hearth, he laid down a prism, of the sort hobbits like to hang in the window to catch the light and make rainbows on the floor to amuse the little ones. 'Welcome to the family,' he said. 'I give the gift of light, that her world may be ever bright.'  
  
Merimas and Pansy came forward with a loaf of bread. 'Welcome to the family,' he repeated the greeting, and his wife added, 'We bring bread, that she may never know hunger.'  
  
The Thain stepped up, a coil of rope over one shoulder. He laid it down upon the hearth and, straightening again, grinned at the Master and Mistress and their new daughter. 'I bring a gift of rope, extra long, twisted by Mayor Samwise himself, that she may never come to the end of it.' He looked at Sam. 'I have never forgot the sage advice the good Mayor once gave me...' Half the hobbits in the room joined in as he continued, ' "I always like to keep a bit of rope handy." ' He looked about him in mock astonishment. 'O, you've heard him say it, as well, I gather.'  
  
'No,' Merry said, 'but they've heard you quote him often enough.' There was a ripple of laughter; Pippin bowed deeply to the Master and Mistress, then to the Mayor, and went back to stand with his own family.  
  
One by one the relations and friends stepped up with their greeting and their gifts, wine for joy, flowers for beauty, honey that life might be ever sweet, oil that they might live off the fat of the land, and more. Many of the gifts were clever, and laughter was sprinkled amongst the more serious presents.  
  
Meliloc Brandybuck, visiting from Tuckborough with his wife Pervinca, stepped forward with a small bowl filled with white crystals. 'Salt,' he said, after his greeting, a twinkle in his eye. 'That she would never be spoiled.'  
  
Pippin snorted softly. Meliloc gave the same gift at every naming day. Ah, well, what he lacked in imagination, he made up for it in patience and good humour with his mercurial wife.  
  
A hush fell amongst the hobbits as the first of the Big Folk stepped forward. King Eomer went to one knee before the Master and his family, looking the proud parents in the eye, gazing again in wonder at the tiny mite of life held in Merry's arms. From his boots, he took two finely crafted knives, and laid them on the hearth amongst the other gifts. 'I give her two blades,' he said, 'one, that her wit might always be sharp, and the other, that she might defend herself against any fear.' Merry nodded in understanding, a gift perfectly in character for the daughter of a Knight of the Mark.  
  
Gimli the dwarf stalked to the hearth, Legolas by his side. From a leather bag that hung from his neck, he took a sparkling red jewel. 'Welcome, little one,' he said. 'I give the gift of friendship. Whenever her eyes look upon this, may she remember friends both near and far away.'  
  
Legolas placed a fine chain beside the jewel, saying something in his own tongue, then smiling at the child Merry held. 'Welcome,' he said. 'I give the gift of grace, that she might walk in blessing all of her days.'  
  
Several more of the Rohirrim stepped up with gifts, and quite a few guardsmen, who had been enjoying the hospitality of the Hall these past months. Finally, King Elessar stepped forward with Arwen.  
  
Arwen knelt before the hobbits, the King beside her, hand on her shoulder. 'Welcome to the world,' she said, and her husband smiled. She presented a butterfly, carved from wood and skillfully painted so that it appeared to have alighted for the moment on her hand, ready to flit away at the slightest breath. 'We give the gift of wonder, that the world might always appear fresh and new to her eyes.'  
  
After the last gift was given, Berilac was helped forward again with a sparkling crystal glass filled with water. 'Welcome to the family,' he repeated. 'I bring water, that she may never know thirst, or drought, that the rain that falls into her life may be ever sweet and refreshing, that all her sorrows may be quickly washed away.'  
  
He gave the glass to Estella, who held it up to the light, then extended it to her husband. Merry dipped his thumb into the water, stroked it gently over the babe's forehead, kissed the wet spot tenderly. 'Welcome to the family, my lass,' he murmured. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, and he chuckled. He held her up for all to see and said, 'We welcome Míruiniël!'   
  
The hobbits began to cheer, and were swiftly joined by the guardsmen and the Rohirrim, and an elf, and a dwarf. Baby Miri was startled at the noise, but not frightened. She stared in wonder at the bright cloths being waved by the cheering crowd, and as the cheers settled down, she gave a great yawn. A chuckle ran around the room, and then there was a chorus of welcome.  
  
'Go ahead, Miri,' Merry said, smiling down into his daughter's sleepy eyes. 'You get yourself a good nap. Eating and sleeping and buckets of love, that's what makes a hobbit babe grow.'  
  
The musicians struck up the first tune, and hobbits and Big People mingled in a circle dance. The singing, dancing, feasting and laughter continued far into the night, until the large log on the hearth burned down to coals, glasses of the Hall's finest were handed around to all the guests, and Miri's naming day was concluded with a toast and a final song of blessing.


	94. Fireworks

Note to Readers: If you don't remember the gift of rope in chapter 93, please go back and read it again... this story has been aiming for it since chapter 1, and I forgot it when I got to ch 93 (misplaced the outline, was typing off the top of my head and just look what happens).  
  
*sigh* Thanks, Dana, for catching that! The corrected version has already been uploaded to ffnet, obviously, or you would not be about to read ch 94!  
  
***  
  
Chapter 94. Fireworks  
  
'They celebrate the New Year on March 25?' Ferdibrand asked, mystified. 'Whyever for?' He shook his head. The hobbits were feasting without the Big Folk for the late nooning this day; for some reason, after the festive elevenses, the Big Folk had declared that they could not eat another bite, nor face another meal, until teatime at the earliest. It seemed odd to Ferdi that, not only did the Big Folk not know how to keep a feast properly, but that they didn't even keep it on the proper day.  
  
The Big Folk never failed to amaze him. Everyone knew that the old year ended with 1 Yule, which the Tooks very sensibly called "Last Day", and the new year began with 2 Yule, which the Tooks, again quite wise in Ferdi's opinion, called "First Day".  
  
To celebrate the New Year just after spring began... well, he could see some sense to that, he supposed. Spring was a time of new life, new beginnings.  
  
Reginard said warningly, 'Ferdi,' and the other looked up in surprise, but the protest died on his lips at the sight of the Thain's face.  
  
Pippin said quietly, 'On the Twenty-fifth of March, two hobbits of the Shire crawled up the side of a terrible fiery mountain. Do you know why they crawled?' he asked mildly.  
  
Ferdi dumbly shook his head. The Thain continued. 'They crawled, because they had no strength left, after their arduous journey. They had gone through danger and peril, they had little food and only a few sips of water, and no water at all near the end, their steps constantly dogged by an enemy who would strangle them for what one of them carried, and other enemies hunted them as well.  
  
'And then there was the Eye,' he said, even more softly. 'A terrible Eye, that searched for them, that commanded Things more horrifying than your worst nightmare could ever be, cousin. All for... what one of them carried.'  
  
Pippin started to raise his brandy glass to his lips, but arrested it mid- air and stared into the golden depths without speaking for a few breaths.  
  
'And what did that hobbit carry? You might ask that. The hobbits of the Shire have shown so little interest in the tale, perhaps even now you do not realise how close the world came to ending...'  
  
Many of the hobbits in the room gasped, save the Gamgees, who had heard all of the stories in the Red Book many times, and the Master of Buckland, and Reginard Took, who'd listened closely to his Thain over the years and put together offhand scraps of information into one whole, and very frightening, piece.  
  
'It darkens my soul to speak of it, even now,' the Thain whispered. 'He carried... the Ruling Ring, forged by the Dark Lord in the fires of the very mountain they ascended.' A small hobbit whimpered, and was shushed by its mum, who covered the little one's ears and rocked gently back and forth. 'With that Ring, the Dark Lord would have covered all of Middle- Earth, yes, even the Shire, with Darkness complete and never-ending.'  
  
There was a catch in his voice as he continued. 'They crawled to the throat of the mountain, where they could look down into the awful fires, and--' his eyes met Sam's. 'The Ring went into the Fire on that day, and was destroyed, and the Dark Lord was driven out of Middle-earth, and the Darkness with him.'  
  
'Cousin Frodo,' Ferdi whispered. Pippin nodded. Ferdi went on, 'He didn't pay for all that food with Bilbo's gold before he sailed away, then.'  
  
Pippin shook his head slowly.  
  
'He paid... he paid...' Ferdi buried his face in his hands and sobbed. 'I'm sorry, Pippin, forgive me, I didn't know...'  
  
Pippin put his glass down, laying a hand on Ferdi's shoulder. 'Now you do know,' he said. 'The Big Folk have honoured Frodo every year since, on the Twenty-fifth of March, remembering when he saved us all.'  
  
'But why--?' Ferdi cried, looking up in anguish.  
  
Pippin met Merry's eyes, then. 'We have been very wrong,' he said, 'to keep it to ourselves all these years. The People should know what one of their own did, and gave, and sacrificed.'  
  
Merry sighed, his eyes haunted.  
  
'You have seldom spoken of the journey,' Reginard said. 'The terrors are still there, in your memories.'  
  
Pippin nodded, not surprised at his understanding.  
  
'We must not let the tale lie in a dusty book, to be buried and forgot amongst all the other mathoms,' the Mayor said.  
  
Pippin answered, 'No, you have the right of it, Sam. I want a copy made of that book you have, for the Smials, so that the Tooks may hear the full tale told, though it take years to read it all to them.' He looked to the Master. 'And what of you, Merry?'  
  
'Yes,' Merry whispered, as Estella squeezed his hand encouragingly. 'I would prefer that the memory die with me, but that would be wrong, wouldn't it?' He closed his eyes. 'We need a copy for Buckland, as well.'  
  
The Mayor nodded, satisfied. 'Frodo-lad has already begun writing out another copy,' he said. 'The Shire must never be allowed to forget what Mr Frodo did for them, and for all of Middle-earth.'  
  
The Thain stood and raised his glass in a silent toast, and all the hobbits followed suit. They drank to Frodo's memory, and to new beginnings, and the New Year.  
  
***  
  
Ferdibrand took himself off after the hobbits' noonday feast, and Pippin did not see him at any of the afternoon's activities, not even the archery demonstration by hobbit archers, though he had been an avid spectator at the morning demonstrations by the Rohirrim and the King's Guard.  
  
Though it would take the work of some months to strengthen his arm enough to pull a bow once again, the Thain had expected to see Ferdi there in support of his archers. Only something of great import would have kept him away. Pippin was not surprised, therefore, when his cousin sought him out, about an hour before sunset, when the great feast with the Big Folk, and the following fireworks display were scheduled to commence.  
  
Pippin excused them to the others and went to walk along the Riverbank with Ferdi, who wore an unusually thoughtful expression.  
  
'What is on your mind, cousin?' he asked at last.  
  
Ferdibrand seemed to be having trouble forming his question. He picked up a small stick, broke it into pieces, and cast each piece into the great River while Pippin waited. After watching the last piece float away, Ferdi finally said, 'There were two hobbits on the mountain, you said.'  
  
'Aye, you have the right of it,' Pippin answered.  
  
Ferdi finally turned to face him. 'Were you the other, then?'  
  
Pippin was taken aback. He'd never thought... but of course. The first thought that the proud Tooks would have had, was that one of their own had been an intimate part of that awesome deed.  
  
'I could never have done what they did,' he said quietly. 'It was almost more than I could do, to fight the battle set before me.'  
  
A frown creased Ferdi's face between his eyebrows. 'Then...' he puzzled, 'was it Merry?'  
  
Pippin actually laughed, and Ferdi's confusion grew.  
  
'Ah, Ferdi,' he said, wiping his eyes, 'twice now you have guessed amiss. I thought you were sharper than that.'  
  
Ferdi was shaking his head in wonder. 'It cannot be...' he said.  
  
'And why not?' Pippin asked softly. 'Because he's only a gardener? Because he was not born highly enough to do great deeds?'  
  
Ferdi was insulted. 'I never said that!' he answered hotly.  
  
Pippin placed a calming hand on Ferdi's arm. 'I apologise, cousin,' he said, 'if I have wronged you.'  
  
'It's just that...' Ferdi said, feeling his way, 'he's always been so... quiet... and solid...'  
  
'He has never spoken of his own part in the Quest,' Pippin said, 'for he would not take any of the honour from Frodo's memory. But Frodo would not have reached the lip of the fiery mountain, had not his Sam been with him every step of the way.'  
  
Ferdi nodded, obviously deep in thought. Pippin clapped him on the shoulder. 'We'll be late for the feast if we tarry much longer,' he said.  
  
'You go on ahead without me,' Ferdi answered absently. 'I'll be along.'  
  
***  
  
After the feast, and the toasts, the King rose from his seat, and all the guests followed his example. He moved to stand before the Master, Mayor and Thain. He bowed deeply, then stood to one side, unsheathing his sword, raising it high in the torchlight.  
  
'We are here to honour the Ring-bearers,' he said. 'One of them stands before you, and the other we will remember as long as memory endures. Praise them with great praise!'  
  
A great shout went up from the Kingsmen and the Rohirrim; the hobbits joined the glad cry, and the Travellers were reminded of the field of Cormallen.  
  
When the shout died away, Ferdibrand gave a signal. His archers quickly formed and marched forward, to stand before the head table. Ferdi nodded to the Thain, and then all of the Tookish archers bowed low before the Mayor.  
  
A blushing Samwise turned to Pippin, who shook his head. 'I had nothing to do with it, Sam,' he said softly. 'The Tooks salute courage; it is one of the few things they respect.'  
  
As the Tooks rose from their bow, Ferdibrand raised his bow in salute, then gave a nod to dismiss the archers, who melted once again into the crowd.  
  
The King's horse was brought, and Elessar lifted Sam to the saddle. 'Now for the fireworks,' he said.  
  
'I always liked that part the best of all,' Sam said.  
  
'Then let us lead the way to the field,' Elessar answered.  
  
'After you, Strider!' Sam returned, and the King laughed. Taking the horse's reins, he led the way to the field, then lifted Samwise down again, and the horse was led away as Big People and Little People sat down together upon the blankets spread out on the field to watch the breathtaking display begin. 


	95. Healed

Author's Note: Were I able to access my reviews on ff.net, I would credit, by name, the reader who suggested that the Big Folk notice the mark on Ferdi's neck (the full story may be found in Chapter 11 of "Flames"), but since I cannot, well, if you read this here, you know who you are. Thank you.   
  
**95. Healed**  
  
Mayor Samwise overslept himself the following morning, what with the fireworks and the feasting and talking long into the night. The hobbits had been fascinated with the Thain's tales of the Great War, and the stories had flown thick and fast, with Eomer, Faramir, Eowyn, Legolas, Gimli, Elessar, and even Arwen pitching in. Sam, to his own surprise, had been in the middle of things, answering questions, telling about his experiences. It gratified him to tell once again about Mr Frodo, and to have eager listeners besides his own children.  
  
Now he arose and dressed hurriedly. He was to ensure that the Thain enjoyed a hearty breakfast this morning. He walked briskly to the Thain's rooms and tapped lightly on the door. At Diamond's invitation, he stuck his head in, but to his dismay the bed was empty. 'Is Pippin here?' he asked.  
  
'I thought he was with you,' Diamond said. 'He was gone when I awakened.'  
  
'No, I haven't seen him,' Sam answered. 'I was just coming to fetch him.'  
  
Young Faramir came in from the other room, buttoning his shirt, and no, he had not seen his father, either.  
  
From the corridor behind Samwise came Legolas' voice. 'Looking for Pippin?'  
  
The Mayor swung round with a feeling of relief. 'Yes, we were to breakfast together, where is he?'  
  
Gimli frowned at the elf's side. 'We haven't seen him,' he growled.  
  
'Perhaps he went for an early morning ride with Merry,' Legolas suggested.  
  
A walk out to the stables showed Merry's pony gone, but Pippin's in its stall enjoying its own breakfast. Sam talked to the stable hobbits, only to find that the Thain had been in earlier, and gone again.  
  
Walking out, the search party saw Merry on his pony, just returned from his ride. The King and Bergil were standing beside his pony, deep in conversation.  
  
'Have you seen Pippin?' Legolas asked as they came up to the little group.  
  
'He ought to be at breakfast now,' the King said thoughtfully. 'Who was to breakfast with him today?'  
  
'I was,' Sam said ruefully.  
  
'And he's obviously not with you,' Bergil said.  
  
'Obviously,' Sam answered.  
  
'Let me put my pony away and we'll have a look around,' Merry said. He was as good as his word, and after a quick consultation, Pippin's friends scattered to look about the Hall.  
  
Meeting again at the main entrance to the Hall, all had to report no sign of the missing Thain. 'He must have taken himself off for a walk,' Merry said, 'though he ought to have been back by now.'  
  
Delicious smells were wafting from the great room and its adjoining kitchens: bacon, sausage, eggs, bread fresh from the oven, fruit tarts, among other foods. Sam's stomach rumbled loudly enough for the others to hear.  
  
The King laughed. 'Well,' he said, 'There's no need for the rest of us to miss breakfast. We can corner him later. It is more pleasant to hunt on a full stomach.'  
  
Entering the great hall, the group of searchers saw the Thain seated at one of the tables, halfway through a generous plateful of breakfast, chatting with Ferdibrand Took who had obviously just sat down to eat.  
  
'Where have you been?' Diamond said, pouncing upon her husband.  
  
Pippin looked up with a smile. 'Eating, of course.' He gestured to the plate. 'I'm on my seconds, already.' He rose to seat his wife. 'Sit down, my love, let me get you something.' He looked about at the others. 'Sit down, everyone! Eat!'  
  
The Thain soon returned with an army of servers bearing plates, cups, eating utensils and platters of food. He urged generous portions on everyone, including Eomer and Faramir, who had joined the group, then sat down and accepted a fresh cup of tea from a server.  
  
'O, your food has gone cold, Sir,' the server said, spiriting away his plate and returning with a fresh one.  
  
'That's all right, I was on my second plateful as it was,' Pippin laughed, then, looking down at the new plate, picked up his fork. 'On the other hand...' he said.  
  
'You have your appetite back!' Diamond said, hope brightening her face.  
  
'Is that what it is?' Pippin answered with a grin. 'All I know is, I woke up this morning hungry enough to eat my bed... but decided that breakfast sounded much better.'  
  
'I pronounce you cured,' Aragorn intoned.  
  
'Many thanks, old friend,' the Thain responded, but he sobered, and the other followed his thoughts.  
  
'We'll be starting to pack up today,' Elessar said. 'It is high time the King returned to Gondor.'  
  
'When will you be leaving?' Pippin asked. 'Not that I'm trying to hurry you on your way, or any such thing.'  
  
The King chuckled. 'I plan to re-issue my edict on the last day of March,' he said. 'I have already sent out messengers, throughout the Shire, to announce the ban. Any Men caught in the Shire after the First will be subject to the penalty.'  
  
Samwise nodded soberly, his eyes meeting Bergil's. 'Are you going back to Gondor with the King?' he asked. 'Or will you be staying at Fornost?'  
  
Elessar leaned forward, before Bergil could answer, to say, 'The Master of Buckland has given me permission to place an outpost across the East Road from the Gate of Buckland.' Technically, this was outside the Shire, but the King had asked permission for courtesy's sake. 'Bergil will command that outpost as the King's liaison with the Shirefolk.'  
  
Congratulations were showered upon the Guardsman, who said, 'See? You shall see more of me than you thought.'  
  
'Good,' Sam said firmly.  
  
Legolas finished his breakfast and rose, saying to Ferdibrand, 'Are you coming, cousin?'  
  
'I was just waiting for you,' Ferdi answered, and the two excused themselves to the others and walked off.  
  
'The elf is teaching him how to throw a knife,' Gimli rumbled. 'Seeing that he will not be able to pull a bow for some time yet.'  
  
'A good skill for a bodyguard,' Elessar nodded.  
  
'He's not a bodyguard,' Pippin protested.  
  
'O that's right, I had forgotten, he's your chancellor.'  
  
'That's right,' the Thain nodded, satisfied.  
  
'What I was wondering...' Bergil mused.  
  
'What?' Pippin prompted.  
  
'How does a... chancellor... get a mark like the one he has about his neck? I hardly doubt he had to fight off a rogue quill.' Bergil had noticed the fine white scar, faded with passage of years, but still visible, when he had lifted Ferdibrand after the ruffians' attack.  
  
'It is an old matter,' Pippin said quietly. 'Some Men thought to teach him how to dance at the end of a rope. Old Merimac, Merry's uncle, was barely in time to interrupt the lesson.'  
  
'I thought hanging was unknown in the Shire,' the King said grimly.  
  
'It is,' Pippin answered. 'Only a very few know of it, those who stood against the ruffians who infested the Shire during the War of the Ring, and they don't care to spread the tale. When they die, the knowledge will die with them.'  
  
'He stood against the ruffians?' Prince Faramir asked.  
  
'There were some who did,' Merry said. 'The Tooks kept them out of Tookland completely, you know. Hobbits are not just fat little jolly people who sit about eating and singing all the time, you know.'  
  
'I suspected as much,' Eomer said.  
  
Pippin continued, 'The few survivors who bear such marks... well, people are simply too polite to ask about them.'  
  
'And so the Shire remains...' Elessar said.  
  
'Untouched? Well, relatively untouched,' Pippin said. 'The People will learn the old tales, now, but you may be sure that we will not go into more detail than is absolutely necessary. There is no need to fill their heads and hearts with dark thoughts.'  
  
They finished their breakfast and scattered to their assorted tasks.   
  
  



	96. Epilogue

Note to my Faithful Readers:

  
This is what you've been anticipating, or if you're like me, possibly dreading. I have grown to love this story and hate to see it end! However, Pip's had quite enough angst for the time being, thank you very much, so while I'm busy picking on Ferdi over in "Flames" (daily updates continue... so far the story is writing itself smoothly), I am also starting a new "Thain" story, set about 6 years after "Rope" ends, called "Where the Merlin Cries". Chapter 1 is already up on ff.net, the outline is nearly finished, so updates ought to be regular. I hope. If the crick don't rise, as my s-i-l is fond of saying.  
  
In case you didn't know, the reason I write on two stories at a time is not because I'm stuck on myself or some such, but because it keeps me from getting a massive case of writer's block. Works for me. (Besides, I'm seriously addicted to fanfic. Sad, ain't it?)  
  
Yes, this is THE END. But I did not put the words at the end of the story, 'cause it spoils the mood. But it's not really "the end" you know, 'cause there are lots of other "Pippin" stories on my story page available for your reading pleasure. Comments are always welcome.**  
  
96. Epilogue**  
  
It was a fine spring day, and several waggons from Bree had set up outside the Gate of Buckland, the first of many that would come throughout the warmer months. Once the first crops started ripening in the fields, it would become a bustling marketplace, where Men and Hobbits met to trade gossip and goods under the watchful eyes of the King's Guard and a Shirriff or two.  
  
One of the merchants had set up his stand and was awaiting customers. It was early, yet, so he left the waggon in charge of his son and wandered over to the Bridge, where a grizzled old sergeant of the King's Guard was smoking a pipe, trading stories with a Shirriff.  
  
A hobbit waggon came through the Gate out of Buckland. A lieutenant of the Guard was just emerging from the Shirriff's house, ducking to clear the doorway, and he hailed the driver. 'Are you going to the market at Bywater?'  
  
'Sure thing, Bergil,' the driver called back. 'Did ye want a ride there?' He pulled his ponies to a stop to let the guardsman step up into the waggon.  
  
The merchant's eyes nearly popped out of his head as the waggon drove by him and onto the Bridge. The grizzled sergeant saluted, saying, 'Have a pleasant leave, Sir, and give my regards to the Mayor. Will you be seeing the Thain this trip?'  
  
'I believe I will,' the guardsman in the waggon answered, returning the salute. 'I've learned a few new moves at Kings I'd like to try on him.'  
  
'He probably invented them,' the sergeant laughed, and the others joined in the laughter, then the hobbit driver slapped the reins on the ponies' backs and the waggon started across the Bridge.  
  
Open-mouthed, the merchant began to follow, only to be stopped by a sword that suddenly appeared in the sergeant's hand to bar his way.  
  
'No Men allowed in the Shire, by edict of the King,' the sergeant said pleasantly.  
  
'But he's--' the merchant protested, gesturing at the retreating waggon.  
  
'He's a hobbit,' the Shirriff said.  
  
'A hobbit!' the merchant snorted.  
  
'That's right,' the guardsman said agreeably, but his sword did not waver. 'The Mayor's eldest son.'  
  
'And the tallest, as I recollect,' the Shirriff said. There might have been a twinkle in his eye.  
  
'You can say that for sure,' the merchant said fervently.  
  
'The King arranged for him to be part of the garrison here, to keep him close to his family.'  
  
'Hobbits are great ones for family,' the merchant agreed, staring after the waggon. 'A hobbit, you say--?' He shook his head.  
  
As it didn't appear that the merchant had any more to say, the Shirriff went on, continuing his interrupted conversation with the sergeant. 'So the King will be returning to the North-kingdom this summer?' he said.  
  
'Yes, it has been nearly a year since they left for Gondor. It's a bit awkward, having a North-kingdom and a South-kingdom,' the sergeant answered. 'But he will summer at the Lake, pass the winter in Fornost, and then go back and spend the next year in Gondor.'  
  
'Every other year here in the North-land?' the Shirriff said. 'The Thain will be pleased to hear that, I think. He and the King are great friends, I hear.'  
  
'What was all the hullabaloo last night?' the merchant broke in. 'Looked a bit like a thunderstorm... flashes in the sky, and great booms and such?'  
  
'That was the New Year's Celebration,' the Shirriff said. 'Fireworks, you know, just like they have in Gondor.'  
  
'New Year's?' the merchant said, scratching his head. 'In Bree we celebrate New Year's on the First of January. What're Shirefolk doing, celebrating this late?'  
  
'O we have our Last Day and First Day at Yule, the same's you,' the Shirriff said. 'But we also celebrate the New Year, now that we know the story.'  
  
'The story?' the merchant said.  
  
'You know, how the Ring went into the Fire on that day, and the Dark Lord was defeated.'  
  
'O, _that_ story!' the merchant said, light dawning. 'Seems as if I heard something about that recently, brought back by some of the Little Folk who'd been on a visit to Buckland.' He nodded. 'Something about a hobbit who saved the Shire.'  
  
'He didn't just save the Shire.' The sergeant fixed the merchant with a stern glare, and the other backed away a step, wondering what he'd done wrong.  
  
'I... I beg your pardon...' he said in confusion.  
  
Very deliberately, the sergeant sheathed his sword and stepped forward to confront the merchant. 'I'll have you understand, Man, he didn't just save the Shire,' he repeated, softly. The merchant was all ears, nodding eagerly, ready to hear what the other had to say.  
  
The sergeant measured him with a glance, then nodded slowly, solemnly, before making his final pronouncement.  
  
'He saved us all.'  
  



End file.
